The Son of Hypnos
by SirPepsi
Summary: In the world of Perseus Jackson, there exist a number of characters - many of whom go unnamed. To rectify this point, I have seen fit to describe the life of Eric Brenton: his ups-and-downs, his heroics, and his destiny. Please understand that although this story is my own, the World I make use of is entirely owned by Rick Riordan. Please read beyond the Prologue.
1. Prologue

I began my day as I usually did, which was to say I woke with a start at four in the afternoon. You see, I'm different. If I told you how, you wouldn't believe me - not yet, at least.

I've got to show you. Close your eyes and relax. Concentrate on something really happy, like marshmallows. Then slowly sing the following incantation: Eye-em-a-foony-man-eye-em-a-foony-man...

Just kidding. I'll tell you. I tend to sleep. Like a lot. What's the average mortal...oops, I mean...how long does the average guy sleep for anyways? Maybe 7-8 hours, if they're lucky?

Not for me, maybe double that on a good day. Sleep gives me this comforting feeling, not like the energy most people replenish after a good nap, but something greater. After every nap, I feel like I could conquer the world. This has led to several incidents I'd rather not discuss in too much detail. They involved things like jumping off three-story buildings or lifting the neighbors car. Your first instinct right now might be to exclaim, "Wow!" I would be inclined to agree with you if the power lasted, but more than once I'd nearly been killed.

Oh, don't feel sorry for me. I like sleep and the great things it does for me. I'm probably the only kid you'll ever meet that doesn't beg his mother to stay up "for one more hour, just to see this really cool new monster truck TV show." It's not like I miss much - when I'm awake, others tend to become drowsy. I try and keep calm too because when my mood changes the people around me fall asleep.

I learned this the hard way one day when my mom had collapsed on our stove after I'd thrown a tantrum about eating my vegetables. Her hair had caught fire, and I'd stopped crying pretty quickly, my mouth gaping. She suddenly stirred, like she was coming out of a trance. Suffice it to say, burning down the house was not something I wanted to do too often. From then on, I tended to be a bit of a recluse. I never had many friends, and I was always afraid I'd hurt somebody. It's hard to control what I can do, and for awhile I didn't understand why it happened or how to prevent it.

Every time I asked why the other kids didn't carry portable pillows or emergency coffee shots, my mom told me to wait for my thirteenth birthday, "Everything will be clear then, honey."

I always laughed, as if there was some running joke I was supposed to get, "Like magic?"

Her reaction differed each time, but most often her expression darkened. Those times, I had no idea how right she was, and I wasn't the least bit prepared for what happened next.

If I'm as content as I say, you might be wondering why I'm telling you all this. Because things went bad...really fast.


	2. Chapter 1: I Meet Myself

My life began in earnest with the start of the school year. I (I'm Eric by the way) was to attend Grover Cleveland Middle School in the city: Kansas City, Missouri (don't ask me why, but mortals...um...yeah...aren't always logical creatures). In the seventh grade, I'd be required to do much more work, and my only fear was that I wouldn't be able to stay awake long enough to finish it all. I'm pretty darn smart, but even I can't do algebra in my sleep. It was already all I could do to stay awake during lessons.

Anyway, my mom drove me to school in our beat-up red 1976 jalopy. I didn't know how it was still running. The strange effect I had on other people didn't seem to extend to cars. The engine ran at 35 miles per hour and sputtered every time we passed over a speed bump. Why it couldn't die was beyond me. At 8 AM we pulled up at the school. My mom parked our jalopy (we called him Fred, by the way) in the street next to side door. I hopped out, and my mom wished me luck. Before I could stop her, she kissed me on the cheek, prompting an indignant "moooooommmmm."

"Okay, sweetie," she smiled, "I'm just worried about you." There was concern in her eyes.

I was a little surprised, but I didn't let on. I hopped out and muttered, Love you," then hurried up the stone steps into the red brick building that was Grover Cleveland Middle School.

I managed to survive my first few classes. English was a little difficult. For some reason, I had trouble reading Macbeth. The words I could _understand_ perfectly well, but deciphering them was something entirely different. I had dyslexia, and according to my doctor, I was diagnosed with ADHD as well. This made me laugh whenever it crossed my mind, as I was always too sleepy to be hyper. Mathematics class was fun, not that I enjoy Euclid or Pythagoras, but I had met some gangly kid who looked a little too young to be in the seventh grade. I didn't think about this until later, however, as Roger was shaping up to be my only friend. He had a peculiar gait and often stumbled, but every time someone laughed at him in the hallways, I glared at them. Much to Roger's increasing nervousness, they fell asleep against their lockers. I didn't understand his apprehension; they were better off dozing anyway.

Finally, we made it to third period, where I encountered the most buoyant individual I'd ever have the pleasure of meeting. She was about 25, and she was wearing tie-dye clothes – her hair was the most interesting aspect of her physical features, a yellow so bright I could have sworn it was like looking at the sun. Roger sniffed and muttered something like "smells funny." I ignored him though; I was transfixed. I listened attentively as we went over her lesson plans and found myself eager to hear about Greek mythology. She mentioned several of the gods, a little bit of distaste in her voice, something I would only realize when I reflected on it. My ears perked up at the sound of someone named "Hypnos," as if I'd never lived before. I suddenly felt excited, and I could barely contain myself. Why did I want to jump up and down and take a nap simultaneously?

Next, we had music lessons. I took clarinet to fulfill my required Fine Arts credit, and to be honest, I didn't mind. Music helped put people to sleep, and that made me enjoy it. We began to play as a class and were in the middle of the Rimsky-Korsakov Clarinet Concerto when my history teacher appeared at the door. I was excited to see her, don't ask me why. She peeped into the classroom, spotted me, and smiled brilliantly. Next thing I knew, she knocked on the door and caught my teacher's attention. The annoyance faded from his face when he saw Ms. Stella, my history teacher. He motioned for her to come in, and she asked permission to speak to me. Mr. Mendoza waved his clarinet, and I took that to mean yes. I walked outside.

Ms. Stella smiled at me. She began to draw something out of the satchel on her back. Funny, I hadn't noticed that before. "Sweety, _demigod_, I'm going to kill –"

'Had she just called me a GOD?' I thought to myself. I was so happy that she seemed to like me I didn't notice the green blade appearing from behind her. Then I remembered, 'She called me SWEETY too!' I was bursting with excitement, and I could feel power coming off me in waves. Next thing I knew, Ms. Stella had fallen to the ground, asleep.

"Ms. Stella..." I called tentatively. My voice trailed off as she began to change. Her legs were no longer, well, legs. One was black and hairy, like a donkey's; the other's was shimmering silver. I yelped and leaped back, horrified. Her upper body began to morph too.

Just then, Roger bounded out of the classroom. "Eric! I just realized what Stella IS!" He stopped when he saw her on the ground. His mouth fell open. "You incapacitated an _empousa_?" he asked, incredulous.

"Hold on," I said. "A what?"

"No time!" He pulled a set of what looked like bamboo from his bag and began to play. Immediately, twigs emerged from the ground and ensnared the unconscious Ms. Stella. The solidified and grew thicker, imprisoning her. "That oughta hold her for awhile," Roger gasped, the effort of playing his bamboo draining him.

I opened my mouth to ask a question, but he yelled, "No time!" My hand was grabbed, and I was practically pulled towards the school's front doors. Just when I thought I was going to pass out (from excitement or from fear, I didn't know), Roger's feet fell off. Seriously. Suddenly, there were hard, circular things where his feet should have been.

"Are those...hooves?" I choked.

Roger looked down. "Curses!"

"Huh?"

"Come on, we don't have much time!"

"Time for what?" I demanded.

The _empousa_, or whatever it was had woken up. "RUN," Roger shouted.

I didn't need telling twice. We bolted for the door and onto the sidewalk. There were people all over the street, and the traffic was terrible, no way we'd be able to pull over a cab in time. Then I spotted something red across the street..."Fred?"

"What?" Roger asked. "Who is Fred?"

I pointed wearily. He nodded, understanding dawning on his face. "Come on!" he dragged me across the street. We would have been killed by traffic if the drivers hadn't suddenly fallen asleep, along with their engines, which I thought was strange, since I'd never put Fred to sleep before.

'Fred' was waiting for us. Roger banged on the window, looking for something. He played his pipes and a rain cloud appeared above the car. I was really freaking out now, but Ms. Stella was trying to cross the street, and Mr. Mendoza (or what looked like him, though he was now half-bull) was with her. Roger found something that looked like a Sun.

"Apollo!" he cried. "Thank the gods."

I was sure I hadn't heard him correctly, but then I couldn't say I knew much of what was going on. Roger tapped the Sun and Fred began to morph. Turning around, Roger spied Ms. Stella and Mr. Mendoza, who was now much taller than the former. He yelped! "Do something, Eric!"

I stared at him, dumbstruck. Then it struck me, I knew what he meant. I had never _tried_ to make someone fall asleep before, but now was as good a time as any. I glared at Mr. Mendoza and forced thoughts of bed, warm milk, a mother bull tucking him in onto him. He looked dazed, then promptly fell onto Ms. Stella.

I heard a muffled, "You oaf!" from under the bull-guy.

I didn't stop to see anymore, and when I whirled about to check on Roger, I gaped. 'Fred' was no longer 'Fred.' He had changed into a 15-foot high golden chariot, radiating sunshine.


	3. Chapter 2: Nice Dog?

There is no doubt my face resembled that of a candy-crazed child on Halloween. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. The chariot was still there. Roger noticed my expression and chuckled.

"Yeah, Apollo's all about appearances."

I nodded numbly, and I suddenly realized that I wasn't tired. Normally, I'd be fighting drowsiness with all my strength by this time, but the excitement lingered and I was wide-awake. I hopped into the Chariot's driver seat and grinned.

"Oh no," called Roger. He hopped in and pushed me over. I don't trust you at the wheel; if you nod off, we're gonners.

I looked morosely at the floor but quickly forgot my disappointment. Ms. Stella had shoved the bull-guy off of her. She looked at me with eyes that expressed a clear feeling: absolute loathing. I conked Roger on the head with the pillow I always carried by my side. Next thing I knew, we were off.

To describe riding in the mini-Sun Chariot as exhilarating would be the understatement of the year. My skin peeled back around my eyes as we blasted forward, going 200 miles per hour easily. We passed several confused people as we headed Northeast. Roger began to explain everything to me, like he'd rehearsed it. I learned that the world of the Greek gods was real, that they lived in America (the major power of western civilization, at the moment), and that my life was in danger because I was a demigod, a half-blood.

I stopped him, "There's that word again. Ms. Stella –"

"The _empousa,_" Roger corected.

"Right...that," I said. "That's what she called me too."

Roger sighed, "Eric, the word 'half-blood' refers to your lineage. You know your mother?"

I looked to see if he was joking. When he continued staring at me, I nodded.

"She fell in love with a God, and his power must have been incredibly potent at the time," he said, "seeing as how you managed to best that monster at your age."

I stared at him, "at my age?" I exclaimed. "How old are you?"

"25," he said sheepishly. "Satyrs age half as quickly as humans."

I just bobbed my head up and down. A headache crept into my skull, throbbing.

/

We spent the next few minutes in silence, broken only when I saw a sign that happily proclaimed, "Welcome to Pennsylvania!" I looked up, shocked. "How is that even possible?" I inquired.

Roger laughed, "The gods have taken an interest in you, and it looks like they're helping us along."

Twenty more minutes passed, and Roger and I were well into New York when 'Fred' stopped abruptly, nearly ejecting me, "What the -!?"

I didn't get to finish my sentence, as Fred decided to spring forward, release our seatbelts, and send us flying 15 feet into the air. We both landed painfully in a rosebush several yards away. Groaning miserably, I looked around.

What I saw would have scared anybody. A large figure, radiating death and darkness, sat at the edge of the road. Roger was still unconscious, moaning about tacos. I cautiously got to my feet, helping Roger up and propping him against my shoulder. The...thing...was moving closer. It was dark as night, had razor-sharp fangs and claws, and it looked angry.

I shook Roger. "Mexican night?" he gurgled.

"Wake UP! What is that thing?"

Roger grumpily turned over to stare at the dog-like thing across the street. "AAAAHHHH!"

I clamped my hand over his mouth, "Shhh."

Staring at the monster facing me, I glared, concentrating: I tried to put him to sleep. Either I was too frightened or he was immune to my magic, because the massive mastiff shook his head and began to move pointedly in my direction. Roger nodded off again, however. Panicking, my brain raced. What in the blazes was I to do?

Looking down at Roger's impassive, sleeping face, an idea sprang into my mind. I let him fall (cruel, you might say, but I was desperate) and proceeded to rifle through his pack. I found what I was looking for and sprung up, a triumphant look spread across my face. Suffice it to say, that confidence wavered when I played Roger's pipes and nothing happened. I waited for a few seconds and tried again with renewed vigor. Nothing happened.

Now I was terrified. The gigantic dog was going to devour me, I knew it. I threw the "reed pipes," as I later learned they were called, directly at him. _Boing!_ They bounced harmlessly off his fur, creating nothing more than a ripple. Looming above me now, the dog sniffed and began to run. I screamed.

Roger emerged from his stupor to find me paralyzed with fear. He stammered, "Hell...hellhound! Put it to sleep, Eric! Now!"

When I continued to cower, Roger righted himself, braced his hooves, and pounced. The bravest goat I've ever seen leapt to his death to try and save me. That was enough to help me break out of my immobilized state. My pillow grasped firmly in my arms, I willed a wall of energy to hit the monster. It collapsed, squashing Roger, who, not surprisingly, complained, "Ow!"

Instead of trying to soothe the beast into sleep as I'd done before, I now relentlessly pounded it with bad thought after bad thought, trying to make its dreams as miserable as possible and keep it at bay. Roger squeezed himself out from under the giant's maw and picked up his broken reed pipes, "The Council is going to KILL me."

I cleared my throat, still stunned at what I'd seen, but happy that Roger was safe and that we were okay...for the time being. Looking at my surroundings, I saw a tall hill, the top of which was crowned by a tree carrying what looked like a blanket made of solid gold. My mouth dropped open, and Roger chuckled, "That's Camp Half-Blood, where we're headed."

I pointed at the Hellhound, or whatever it was, which was trembling in its sleep. Roger nodded and pulled out a tiny contraption, a whistle of sorts. Through my dyslexia, I could make out PANdemonium on the side. Roger bellowed and blew into the whistle with all his might. Closing my eyes was involuntary, as the gold mist emanating from the device streaked towards the hellhound and caused it to disintegrate.

"There, his essence has returned to Tartarus."

I looked at him, my brown eyes clearly displaying my fear.

"Hey, it's okay. You did it, if it wasn't for you..." his voice trailed off. "Look, I was assigned to protect you, and though I've only known you for a few hours, I figured you were a demigod pretty quickly. That's how powerful your aura is."

I smiled and moved to walk up the hill.

Roger grabbed my arm with a grateful look in his eyes. He bleated, "I failed in my duties. I fell asleep."

Though I was still scared and I had no idea what was in store for me (I didn't much want to know, to be honest), I grinned, "Nah, people do that around me all the time. No biggie...This Council, I'll tell 'em how brave you were."

Gratitude evident from his expression, Roger gave me a running goat-hug. "Come on, you'll want to meet Annabeth."


	4. Chapter 3: My New Life Begins

**A/N: Thank you to those of you (both on and off the site) who have expressed your support. This story is dedicated to you.**

As I stumbled up the hill, I noticed the tree I had laid eyes on earlier. It's trunk was much thicker around the bottom then I had originally figured. I realized with a start that the lump cuddling the base of the oak contentedly was _alive_.

"Good God!"

"Dz," Roger corrected me.

"What are you talking about?"

"Gods," Roger said simply. "Once, a child of Hermes made the mistake of uttering the same phrase you exclaimed just now."

"And?" I asked, not sure I wanted to know.

Roger shrugged, "Demeter assumed he was referring to his father. She was offended. The guy does make a nice patch of barley.

I gulped. "Dz," I muttered under my breath.

Roger laughed, and I noticed how his eyes lit up when he was closer to camp. It was as if he had undergone a complete transformation. Tired, food-crazed satyr was converted into proud and resolute protector. I was impressed. "That's Peleus," he explained, catching my attention, "the dragon that guards the Golden Fleece."

"The what?" I asked. "Wasn't that sought by Jason from the King of Colchis, like, three thousand years ago?"

"Yeah," he responded, "now it guards our camp's borders, protecting them from monsters and mortals. It was brought by Percy, Annabeth, Tyson, and Grover a few years ago."

"Who-?"

He cut me off, "You'll see."

Turning around, I saw him grin. "Hurry up, before something even scarier decides to eat you."

/

As we approached the boarders, Roger paused. Looking at me in a way that made me uncomfortable, he seemed to be contemplating something.

"What?" I asked gently, not wanting to startle him.

"I think I should tell you now," he said. "The demigods present are sorted into 'cabins' according to their godly parentage."

"Where will I go?"

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea," he said dryly.

I stared.

Laughing, Roger explained, "Your powers." Hastily, he added, "many demigods wait years to be claimed. Don't feel disappointed if your parent is unresponsive. The gods can be forgetful."

"How is that possible? Omniscient, omnipotent beings can be forgetful!"

"They're neither of those two things, Eric," Roger chuckled. "Hades, sometimes they can't even communicate with each other effectively, let alone control Fate. Many of them don't care about their children, despite the promise they made to Percy."

I thought I sensed bitterness in his voice, and I wisely decided against speaking.

/

I could _feel_ the power of the place; it exuded warmth and serenity. As we descended into the valley, I noticed greenish ladies darting out from the forests to get a look. Suddenly, I froze. "My mom!" I realized with a shock I hadn't given her a second thought since we'd left.

Roger looked over at me nervously, "You're what?"

"My mother...you know, the woman who's raised me the past twelve years?"

Paling, Roger put his hand on my shoulder, "Eric, you must be overwhelmed. You have no mother – from what we've observed over the past few months, you live in a small house, on Elemental Street, with a nice garden in front, a sign at the gates –"

I cut him off with my indignant expression, "You _watched_ my house?"

Looking embarrassed, he stammered, "N-no...not me. Some nature spirits living in your garden, they kept an eye on you."

I shook my head. "Not well, apparently. They never saw my mother!"

Roger just looked at me sadly, "We knew your mother," he whispered, pulling out a picture, "she was a mortal celebrity. Her looks were enough to make men fall flat at her feet, stunned into unconsciousness. No wonder she captured the attention of Hypnos."

There was that name again. It gave me pause, and I hesitated before replying, "Hypnos?"

"God of Sleep. From what I've observed, he's definitely your dad."

I choked. I'd never felt resentment towards my father before; my mother (or who I had thought was my mother) never spoke of him, but now there was an angry feeling boiling in my stomach: hatred. Why hadn't my father ever said 'Hello,' ever once checked on me to see if I could handle the traits I'd unwillingly inherited.

Startling me, Roger said, "I know that look, Eric. Don't blame Hypnos – the gods are busy, I've told you."

I shook him off, "Let's just focus on my mother," I managed to get out before turning away, tears flowing down my cheeks.

He blinked, "Eric..."

"Well, _someone_ raised me," I said, outwardly expressing the belief that I accepted his explanation, but inside, I never wavered...the woman who had raised me was my mother. I was sure.

"We were informed of a strange presence near your home. The nymphs alerted us, informing us they believed they had sensed a being the likes of which had disappeared long ago."

"And? Did you see my mother?" I asked eagerly. My mother was an extraordinary woman; she had taught me to make wise choices, to think before acting, something she said most people neglected. Never mind the "long-ago-disappearance" nonsense.

Roger shifted from foot to foot (hoof to hoof?), "We responded, but when I approached your home, I was repelled. I assumed it was a barrier the nymphs put up to protect you, but now I'm not so sure. Chiron will now."

My eyes widened, "_The_ Chiron? The one who trained Achilles, the noble –"

"The Centaur himself," Roger grinned. "Come on, it's time you met him."

/

I marveled at the landscape; a lush forest seemed to grow into existence as we passed deeper into the valley, penetrating the magical boundaries. Near a large, light blue house at the center of a field that seemed to stretch for miles, was a volleyball court. An armory nestled in the woods to my side, and I could just make out what looked like an archery range behind the three-story climbing wall, covered in lava.

"Is that..."

"Yep, come on, we're nearly there."

Roger stepped up to the porch, nearly tripping over what looked suspiciously like a grape vine growing out of the ground. Before he could stumble, I steadied him, looking up into the face of middle-aged man, looking bored, with cards dealt on the table in front of him. He was facing a handsome man in a wheelchair, whose eyes sparkled with concern when he saw me.

Roger yelped, "Mr. D! Eric, this is our camp director and leader of the satyrs," the last bit was tinged with displeasure.

"Yes...," the man said, sipping a diet coke that had just appeared out of thin air.

I don't know how I knew, but something in my mind awoke. Camp Half-Blood was imbuing me with a sense of confidence, something I'd never had much of before. Bowing, I said politely, though I already disliked the man, "Lord Dionysus."

The grape-guy looked surprised. His eyes narrowed, "Ah, yes. You bear the mark of Pandora; I assume you have encountered one of her 'friends,'" the last word was spat.

"Sir?" I asked.

"Elpis, Hope, most likely, but..." he looked me over, "perhaps not. There is something different about you."

Before I could respond, I noticed the man facing the pseudo-god had disappeared. In his place was a white stallion. As my eyes moved up, I saw where his body fused with his midsection. I jumped backward.


	5. Camp Half-Blood

**A/N: As always, reviews, favorites, follows, etc. are appreciated – please do not hesitate to bombard me with PMs. I enjoy answering questions.**

**Enjoy!**

Immediately, I felt guilty – Chiron had obviously been through quite a bit, and though as I understood it he had mentored campers for the last few millennia, he was badly bruised, and one of his legs was clearly broken. Sheepishly, I dared to meet his eyes.

Chiron smiled at me, "It isn't often I introduce myself to a camper who understands my appearance at first sight."

I grinned, "Chiron, I've seen depictions of Centaurs in the past...You seem different. There's something glowing near your abdomen, bright and white."

His smile evaporated, "How...no mortal, demigod or otherwise, has uncovered the true form of the Centaur. You can see my transformative section?"

As realization dawned, I backed away. "Well...um...it's just a bit different from the rest of your body," I stammered. Offending my teacher ten minutes after meeting him seemed unwise.

"You misunderstand, my young friend," Chiron's expression softened. "I am astounded; we will have to investigate this further. The gods themselves are unaware of our uniqueness, what distinguishes us from other composite creatures. The fact that you know...why, it's..."

Roger piped up, "Amazing? Super-fanfrickin'tastic? Let's not forget the satyr that brought the most powerful demigo-"

"Unnerving," Chiron finished, with a meaningful look at Roger, whose enthusiasm diminished only slightly.

"Nevertheless," I interjected, "I'm grateful for Roger's...um...help in getting here. The Committee-"

"Council," murmured Roger, beside me.

"Right, the Council should honor him."

Chiron laughed, "Of course, and I think a new set of reed pipes are in order."

Roger began examining his person frantically until he realized the pipes were sticking out the top of his satchel.

We shared a chuckle, and the uncomfortable feeling I'd had when Chiron's eyes bored into me passed.

/

I spent the next few hours drifting from place to place, Roger accompanying me. He gave me what he called 'The Royal Tour,' describing each of the cabins in detail and introducing me to the respective Heads. I checked out the archery range, the lake (where I waved at some Naiads), and the woods. Finally, we made our way to the forges.

"I expect we'll meet Jake Mason, the Hephaestus cabin counselor. He'll help you craft your weapon; don't let him intimidate you," Roger winked at me.

Instead of encountering Jake, we stumbled on Connor and Travis Stoll. Roger instinctively placed his hands protectively over his reed pipes. Raising my eyebrow, he gave me a look that said 'I'll explain later.' Before we could turn around, the Stolls galloped up to us. They looked exhausted, as though they'd just fought a war (I'd learn later that they had), but they grinned excitedly.

"We heard you'll be bedding with us," one twin beamed.

"I thought my godly parentage was known?" I responded.

Roger nudged me and whispered in my ear. I nodded, "Until I'm claimed, I guess."

If it was possible, the twins' mouths stretched even wider, "Great! We'll expect our $20...$50 registration fee tonight."

Before I could say anything, Roger spun me around and carted me out the door, stopping only to snap his fingers and make a flower pop out of Travis's (or Connor's?) ear.

/

Finally, the tour ended. I was feeling excited about my new home, and I couldn't wait to begin training tomorrow. As I thought about my mother, my feelings dampened slightly, but all thoughts were abruptly ripped from my mind.

A tall girl, maybe 15, was striding across the field, Hades-bent on reaching the dining pavilion. She carried herself well, and I couldn't help but stare. Gods she was gorgeous.

Unfortunately, my thoughts, private though I thought they were, were broadcast via my treacherous visage. The girls following her seemed to glow, and I could feel the power of their auras. Each bore a silver bow slung across her back, and though they all seemed younger than sixteen, I could sense that many were much, much older.

The girl in front paused and smiled. In the fantastically cool way I typically act, I let my mouth hang open, "uh...er...duh?"

She giggled in response. Interpreting this as a good sign, I grinned. Suddenly, I was flat on my back with a knife pressed to my throat. All I could make out was a glimmering pendant hanging from my assailant's neck: "Gloria Lentington, Huntress of Artemis since 1871." I gulped.

Thankfully, she stepped away and returned to her friend's side when she saw my confused expression, but it didn't seem as though her anger had been quelled, "You dare look at our leader - lieutenant of the Maiden Goddess, daughter of Zeus, Thalia Grace amorously? Answer me, bo-!"

Thalia held up her hand to stop her zealous Sister. Before she could say anything, however, she looked at me, startled. My expression must have been priceless because it froze the mighty daughter of Zeus on the spot. Slowly, she turned around - half of Huntresses had fallen asleep. Whirling to face me once again, she opened her mouth to speak. Thankfully, the camp loudspeaker interrupted us, and I took my chance to run.

/

At dinner that night, I sat with my 'brothers and sisters' in the Hermes cabin. We were a lively bunch, that's for sure. I scooted sideways to make room for Roger, who grinned at me, "See those Huntresses," he gestured to my right.

I looked at the Artemis table, "I thought she was a maiden goddess..."

"Oh, they're not her children. Their life spans stretch for eternities, as they labor in the godess's service. Right now, they're visiting to clean up after the War."

"Why did you point them out to me?" I asked innocently.

Roger bleated, "Because you terrified them. I've never seen them confused before. Angry? Yes. Sorrowful? Yes. Mirthful?...Less often, but yes. I've yet to see them uncertain, however."

"What's so important? They're just-"

"I believe the one called 'Gloria' challenged you to a duel on Thursday, after dinner. You're gonna do great," Roger clapped me on the back.

Suddenly, the brisket sitting in front of me didn't seem so appetizing. I felt sick.


	6. Camp Half-Blood: Part 2

**A/N: I hope you enjoy the next installment. If you get the chance, after reading below, check out **_**Nico's New Family **_**by LauraHeartfilia.**

After dinner (when I was still shaking, though less noticeably), I was introduced to Percy and Annabeth, the 'Heroes of Olympus.' I listed in awe to them recount their story, how they'd navigated the Labyrinth, battled Atlas, borne the weight of the sky, traveled to the Underworld in search of Zeus's Master Bolt, and eventually led the camp as it defended Manhattan from an encroaching Titan horde. Although many of my new friends lived through the War, they didn't seem to mind listening again as Percy and Tyson entertained us around the campfire, though I did notice pained expressions on a number of faces.

Turning to Connor, I asked, "Clarisse...that's her name, right?"

He nodded numbly, so I continued, "Is she alright? She looks miserable; I almost feel like trying to comfort her."

"That wouldn't be good for your health," he said, laughing, before his face turned serious. "She's lost some good friends; we all have."

Out of respect, I didn't say anything else.

Eventually, we roasted marshmallows and began to sing. I hadn't ever felt like I _belonged_ as much as I did when I was here. Returning to my cabin with one of my sisters by my side, I asked, "What's in store for me tomorrow."

She gave me a mischievous grin before replying, "Training, and lots of it." When she saw my mouth open in protest, she stopped me, "You're going to need it if you want to do the camp proud and put that girl in her place."

I looked at her, Gwen was her name, in surprise, "I thought we were allies; didn't they fight alongside you in the war?"

"Yeah," she said bitterly, "but she spent the majority of it lecturing me about the woes of dealing with men. You better knock her down a few pegs, I'm counting on it."

/

I took Gwen's sentiments to heart.

The next few days were the most rigorous of my life. I was not planning to let Gloria humiliate me in front of the camp, and to prevent what seemed to be the inevitable eventuality, I forced myself to wake up every morning at 5 AM, when I would run along the beach – back and forth, for three miles. I pushed myself during training, and I was stunned to find that the nymphs who acted as our practice targets in archery (when we used non-lethal arrows, of course) were too sleepy to move while I aimed at them. This helped me earn top marks, but I didn't feel it would be of much use when battling a Titan.

Nevertheless, I was feeling proud of myself, and Roger's constant encouragement was great motivation. I spent Tuesday before dinner in the sword-arena, where I grabbed a burly Ares kid to spar.

I wanted to tell Roger the story of my narrow victory, how I did my parents proud by pounding the Ares kid to a pulp. Unfortunately, I was unconscious, so my tale-concocting abilities were limited. I'd been knocked out in a matter of second, but I insisted on leaving the nursery, grabbing the same kid, and demanding a re-match.

"You got guts, kid," he said, an evil grin spread across his face. "I like it. One more round, then I'll let you take on Clarisse – she needs a runt like you to spar, victory'll lift her spirits."

Gulping, I faced the kid again. I'm sure you can predict what happened next, but in my defense, I managed to stay standing for a good five minutes that time.

/

On Wednesday, after my run, I gathered myself together to attend Roger's ceremony. The Council had decided to honor him; he'd never told me, but apparently he'd already saved the world a few times. Bringing me to camp safely and winning the favor of Apollo had qualified him for a raise in rank, and his awards were to be presented before the camp.

Wearing my best attire, I snuck my way into a grove behind the Big House, knowing I was late. Striding discreetly into a wide clearing, I spied Roger standing nervously at a podium that looked as though it had just grown from the ground. He was giving a speech, and his nervousness seemed to fade when he spotted me,

_...honor to be recognized by the Council of Cloven Elders. I pledge myself to the service of the Wild and to embodying the wishes of Pan. Finding myself close to tears, I can't wait to begin leading other satyrs in our mission to preserve the last few enclaves of unadulterated nature..._

At this, he began sniffling, and the grove erupted in thunderous applause. I was too stunned to speak – my best friend was a natural speaker.

Just then, a nymph near the front of the crowd rushed the stage and swept Roger off his feet, "ROOOGGGGERRRRR, I knew you could do it!"

"Thank-Thanks Jordan," Roger gasped, his face turning blue.

Setting him down, the nymph kissed him on the cheek, and Roger blushed. Seeing me make my way towards him, he smiled happily, "Congrats, man. You deserve it, for sure."

"Eric, I'd like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Jordan. He lives here as an oak, and my-oh-my, is he the warrior. During the Battle of the Labyrinth last year, he slew three Cyclopes and a Hellhound all by himself!"

I grinned, "Nice! You gotta show me some of those moves; I could use them if I'm to fight that darned Huntress."

"Anytime," Jordan remarked, "a friend of Roger's is a friend of mine – you wanna go now?"

I must have looked surprised because Roger chuckled, "Come on, I'll help you guys out."

/

My muscles were sore from so much exercise, and I slumped with relief into my bed, "Ahhh."

I was about to fall asleep when a voice piped up from outside the cabin, "I don't know how the boy knew. I'm amazed – he's incredibly perceptive, and though he is clearly a child of Hypnos, he has yet to be claimed. I feel there is something we are missing here."

I turned over, confusion pouring over me, of all the magnificently powerful demigods here, Chiron is interested in _me_? Shaking the thought from my mind, I turned over and tried to sleep. When it came, it was fitful, and I dreamed of being home, back in Missouri. My mom was standing there, but she looked purposeful, kind, but driven, "Good, you're here, we must begin."

"Mom!" I cried.

"Yes, child," she whispered. "Know that I love you, that I am safe – you must listen to me carefully, okay?

I agreed, numb with shock. "You are stronger than you suspect," she said, as though she understood my feelings. "I am here only briefly, to convey a message. I must prepare you for what is to come – you will need to know your power while asleep. Your dominion over dreams."

I looked at her, unable to understand, "That's Morpheus though, isn't it? Hypnos controls only the physiological aspect of sleep, not the –"

She smiled kindly, warmth and comfort washing over me. I had noticed this before but was reluctant to express it; something had been missing in my life, the usual mirth and joy. I attributed it to her absence, and in a way I was right, but she felt...almost inhuman, her aura was amazing. "There is much you do not yet grasp – take the quest, and use the dreams."

"Don't go! You can't leave me here. I...I miss you."

Her face was red, and she looked on the verge of tears. "Remember this, it is the most important: I am your mother, and I will always love you – no matter what they tell you.

/

I woke up, sweat pouring down my face, "Hurry up, Eric!" Gwen called, shaking me, "you're going to miss your chance to eat before the battle. Looks like you didn't get to run on the beach today."

Now wide awake (come to think of it, I hadn't been as sleepy at camp), I scrambled out of bed and down to breakfast, where I snacked lightly, pondering my mother's message and dreading the fight to come. Next to me, a voice cried, "Oh, help me," in a high pitched manner. I realized Gloria was mocking me to her friends, predicting me defeat. The Artemis table erupted into laughter. Seething, I made to get up when a hand clamped down on my shoulder.

"Calm down, Eric. You'll have your chance," Roger informed me.

I smiled gratefully, taking a deep breath and preparing myself to journey to the arena.


	7. My Duel

**A/N: I hope you enjoy this next installment – tell me what you think in the Reviews.**

**Additionally, I'd like to thank Fanfiction User shipper46, for her continued support and encouragement. Thanks to all my readers; may Hypnos bless you with a good night's sleep!**

When I arrived at the arena, caked in sweat and buried under thirty pounds of "lightweight" armor, I was surprised to find the stands full. Word of my unique ability to tick off the Huntresses of Artemis seemed to have spread. What made the setup markedly different from anything I'd seen was not the Ancient Greek architecture, the Classical Age weapons, or even the Centaur acting as a referee. No, the stadium was distinguished in that a large number of people seemed to be squished together on one side – the opposite half was empty save for a few of my friends, Gwen, Roger, Jordan, and a couple of Apollo campers.

Looked up at Gwen, confused, I asked, "What's going on?"

She gave me a winning smile, and I found myself thinking about how gorgeous she was. I wasn't _really_ a Son of Hermes after all; Hypnos had sired me, and if I liked Gwen, then so be it. Returning to reality, I managed to catch, "Mr. D had the campers sit on the side of the contender they believed most likely to win.

My shoulders slumped, and the painful gravity of my impending defeat began to take its toll. Roger noticed the expression on my face, and he gave me two thumbs up, "It's better this way. You get to prove them all wrong – do Camp Half-Blood proud!"

Giving him a grin, I turned my back and let my fake feelings vanish. I was terrified, but also determined. This Huntress was experienced, yes. She had fought alongside a powerful Olympian goddess for more than a century, yes. But I had a not-so-secret weapon. She'd be asleep in no time, I assured myself. With that, I heaved my sword (which was far too heavy, lopsided, and had a torn grip), striding semi-confidently into the arena.

Chiron blew his whistle, signaling the crowd to grow quiet as he read the rules: _No killing (punishment will involve two weeks of kitchen work with the harpies, No Serious Maiming (punishment will involve cleaning the Pegasus stables, and no seeking retribution after the match (though no punishment will be offered as a deterrent). All powers, weapons, and skills are allowed. When Tyson here reaches the count of 5, you will begin._

I stood nervously facing my opponent, a 150 year-old+ warrior who looked like a Freshman in High School. Gulping, I waited for Tyson. "1...2...2-and-a-half...17...5!"

Blowing his whistle yet again, I thought I saw Chiron wink at me, but I didn't have time to dwell on it: Gloria charged. My meager training with Jordan kicked in, and I rolled beneath her legs and jumped up behind her, ready to strike. She anticipated my attack, and shot an arrow at my chest. With sheer luck, I managed to deflect it, preparing myself for the onslaught of knife attacks. Toying with me, knowing I couldn't hope to defeat her, she cut gash after gash in my armor, piercing my arms and legs in multiple places – laughing as I cried out in pain, "What's the matter, _boy_? Can't handle me?"

Her friends took up her song, and I was feeling sick to my stomach. Exhausted, I looked up into the stands, where Gwen was looking at me determinedly. She mouthed, "You can do this."

I nodded in response and focused on knocking Gloria unconscious. When my best efforts failed, I looked up in shock. The Huntress gave me her evil toothy grin and rolled up her sleeves; her arms were covered in caffeine patches. Groaning, I felt hopeless, there was no way to put her to sleep. My resolve dwindling, I took one last look at Gwen before Gloria pounced, pushing me hard. Fortunately, she was more into humiliating me than actually winning the fight – she wanted her victory to be slow, painful, and miserable. Every time I attempted to counter and strike, she would find some way to injure me – bashing me in the shoulder, punching me in the stomach, slapping me across the face. Finally, she spun and kicked me in the chest.

I went down, dazed. She brought up her knives and made ready to put them at my throat. I wasn't done yet, though, I was going to do Gwen proud. Capitalizing on her gloating, I made on desperate sweep to her legs. _Yes!_ I thought, before my plan failed. She hopped easily and kicked me in the jaw, twisting her knives around my blade and hurling it out of my hands. Next, she cut the straps of my armor, and I was defenseless.

Chiron, looking resentful and angry, was about to call the battle to a stop (before the Huntress killed me, no doubt), but Mr. D stopped him, allowing Gloria to continue beating me up, "Until he yields or dies!"

I gulped, but I was never going to give in to this witch – no way would I let her embarrass me in front of my friends. Looking up, I half-expect Gwen to have left in dismay, but she was looking at me anxiously. Gloria prepared to lunge at my throat; she would impale me.

I began to glow, and I extended my arms to the heavens. The nearest cloud seemed to drift towards me, and I motioned for a wisp of cool air. What I didn't expect was the mist to gravitate towards me and solidify into a sword, one that fit perfectly! Next, the air surrounded my body, and when it departed, there was a comfortable set of armor resting on my shoulders. Hopping to my feet, I began to fight with renewed vigor. The Huntress still outmatched me, but she was looking surprised, and the stands had gone quiet. After three minutes of back-and-forth fighting, Gloria notched an arrow at let it fly – it should have pierced my armor, but the cloud that encased me deflected it, sending it off to the side of the arena. A cry of awe came from Jordan, who was hugging Roger (the Satyr desperately trying to breathe) tightly.

I attacked ferociously but never made foolish mistakes. Refusing to fall for her traps, to be goaded into making foolish moves, I infuriated the Huntress. Eventually, I knew she would defeat me – she had just to recover from her shock and become serious; then I'd be dead. My mom's words came back to me, and the feelings I'd had when she visited me last night returned.: Warmth...Amicability...Affection...Friendship.

I looked at Gloria, who was still glaring fiercely at me. To the surprise of everyone, including Mr. D (who was pretending to be disinterested), I held my sword up to the sky and willed it to return. My armor dissipated shortly afterwards. Raising my hands above my head, I said, rather stupidly, "We don't have to fight, you know. We're allies. Put down your weapons."

To the befuddlement of the crowd, who by now sat in tensed silence, watching with bated breath, she complied. Next, she ran forwards and hugged me, "I'm...I'm sorry."

Gloria stepped back and blushed, "You're right. Man or no, I was wrong to try and humiliate you."

Before anyone could applaud (or jeer), something appeared over my head. I knew it without looking because of the comfort it provided. A branch, dripping in water from having been submerged in the River Lethe (the symbol of Hypnos), floated above my head. Clovis, shaking himself out of his sleep, grinned widely, and his echoes of happiness resonated around the arena.

Suddenly, it stopped, just as quickly as it had begun. Looking upwards, I noticed why. At the bottom right-hand corner of the branch rested what looked like an emoticon: a little happy face. Confusion washed over my face, "What's going on?"

Everyone seemed to be just as lost as I was, everyone except our Camp Director, Mr. D, and Chiron. The former was sitting, mouth agape – diet coke dripping down his chin. The Centaur was pale, and he murmured, "It can't be..."

"What is it Chiron? What's wrong?" I asked, a little panicked.

"Philotes..."


	8. Philotes

**A/N: I hope you enjoy – thanks to my readers (followers, etc.) and to shipper46, Lauraheartfilia, and AunAnonymous for their support.**

After thirty seconds of stunned silence, during which the branch floating above my head seemed to fade, Chiron cantered quickly into the arena and swung me onto his back in one fluid motion. He gestured to the leaders of each cabin, and his expression was clear, _Meeting...now._ Traveling up the field on a Centaur's back is not nearly as fun as it sounds, especially when said Centaur is obviously injured. Despite Chiron's strength, I could feel him stagger over every bump, and I clutched him nervously whenever he leaped, the smiley face – mark of Philotes, apparently – following me.

Though all but the youngest campers were aware that something strange had just happened, few were perceptive enough to grasp its gravity. Gwen and Roger were among them, and I managed to see them whisper to each other anxiously before they jumped from the stands and ran up the field, trailing us.

/

I was ushered into the Big House, and Chiron had yet to speak to me. He seemed to be deep in thought, and every once in awhile, I would catch him murmuring, "..so long...perhaps their only hope." Not daring to question him while riding precariously upon his back, I bit my tongue, resolving to demand answers as soon as was possible. As we entered the foyer, painted a light sea green to commemorate Percy Jackson's recent triumph over the Titan Kronos, I was lightly dropped to the floor.

Whirling about, I stopped mid-sentence, there were 20 people gathered in the room, as if they'd just appeared. Among them was the wine god, attempting (and failing) to look bored out of his wits; if I wasn't mistaken, he had an amused look in his eyes – perhaps some relief, as well. We filed into a small room that opened up off to the side, each of us signing in with a grinning Naiad on our way in.

"Chiron, what's going on? I-I have a right to know!" I said nervously.

The teacher paled and seemed on the verge of fainting. He looked at me with sad eyes, eyes that had no doubt gazed upon hundreds of heroes – all long gone, and he inhaled deeply. Before he could answer me, however, Roger and Gwen, both panting, burst into the room, shoving the Naiad into the wall, with cries of "Who cares about your protocol? My friend is in trouble!"

I smiled, once again thanking the god(s) for Roger, who was practically bursting to speak. Without waiting for Dionysus's permission, much to the latter's displeasure, Roger explained, "Gwen...she remembered it. Philotes is the daimona of friendship and affection. Much like Lord Hypnos, she was born to Nyx, the personification of night."

Interrupting him, Chiron relayed, "She was responsible for the Olympian's success. Though her talents were of little use during the war, she stabilized the family, providing a framework for cooperation and love."

Dionysus scoffed, "Fat lot of good she did, didn't she."

For the first and last time I remembered, Chiron glared at the god, "She was banished by Zeus, for 'sowing dissent.' The gods were afraid of her, afraid she would manipulate them for her own purposes. As if my Philotes could ever..."

He looked as if he were about to cry, and Roger tentatively hugged him. I patted his flank gently – the poor guy; he had cared about this woman.

We all sat quietly for a few minutes (an amazing feat for a group of ADHD demigods and the party deity) before Chiron steeled himself and spoke, "In anticipation of your question Eric, Philotes is important because she hasn't been seen in hundreds of years. The gods have searched high and low for her in times of crisis, but she has refused to heed their call. Until now."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"She's just claimed you," he replied, putting up his hands before I could interrogate him further. "I don't know how, or why, but I suspect that she, or a shadow of her existence, was what raised you."

"It explains why you're so kind," said Gwen – then she blushed, realizing what she'd just said.

"Every time someone acts out of kindness or makes a new friend, the goddess's presence is invoked. Perhaps this is why the Olympians have yet to see her," Chiron said, with a pointed look at our Camp Director, who snorted in response.

The Stoll twins piped up, "What's to do with this timing? We've just defeated the gods' greatest enemies, right? So why worry?"

Chiron glanced quickly at Annabeth, who had her brows furrowed in thought, before responding, "There...is something new stirring, something the gods have not sensed in eons. To combat it, should the need arise, they will need to be united, not bickering. And although we helped ease the tension between them after the War, the gods are stubborn and change only when confronted with destruction. They will need Philotes if they are to present their foe with a challenge."

Percy, who I'd heard speak only at the campfire and who hadn't been present while I fought Gloria, volunteered, "We need a quest – someone's got to find this Philly Cheese Steak or-"

Annabeth sighed, "It's _Philotes_, Seaweed Brain."

"Right, well, it looks like she's the key to saving Olympus."

"And here I thought Silena's sacrifice bought us some time to relax," Clarisse muttered, resentment bubbling in her voice.

Dionysus cleared his throat, causing the chatter to spatter out, "I agree with Pamphilos Jenderson. Whosoever decides to undertake this task will be doing the gods a great service – if you succeed, I'm sure we can arrange some party hats and a couple of balloons."

A few people laughed; eventually, Jake Mason banged his fist on the table, "So who's going," he said gruffly.

Chiron whinnied, an odd sound, considering his human vocal chords, and stamped his feet. "I feel it is only right that Philotes's Champion lead the mission," he looked at me. Was that _hope_ in his eyes?

I nodded numbly.

"You must visit the Oracle and select your companions. Hopefully, we can send you off by tomorrow morning."

"Meeting adjourned!" proclaimed Dionysus.

/

I expected to be horrified upon speaking to the Oracle, as I remembered Percy's descriptions of her my first night. Shaking, I made my way to the seashore, happy to remember (half-way through the trip) that Delphi's spirit now inhabited a young lady's body. Visiting Rachel in her cave by the seashore was the least of my worries, I figured.

I scaled the rocks and emerged onto a small plateau overlooking the rest of camp. It seemed Rachel had her own place, _Cool_, I thought to myself. The cavern was bedecked in purple, the color of Apollo, and Rachel was playing a videogame in the corner alongside Percy and another satyr, Grover, I think, who had presented Roger with his awards. By the angry looks on their faces, I judged she was creaming them.

Not wanting to interrupt but reminding myself I had a quest to go on, I knocked on the side of the cave. Immediately, a hologram appeared, "Oracle of Delphi, Camp Half-Blood, Long Island. Please give the password."

"Um..er..."

"I'm afraid I'll have to incinerate you then," it said cheerfully.

"No, wait! Is it...is it sun?"

The hologram was motionless for some time, then it began to count down, "Three seconds until vaporization...3...2..."

Rachel sighed, "Password: Apollo is cool/He is the king of Haiku/Yayyay poetry."

I looked at her, "That was awful."

She grinned, "The Sun god's idea. What do you need?"

I tried not to sound panicky, "A prophecy for my quest."

"Ask away," she gave me a winning smile.

"Um...okay: How do I find Philotes?"

Nothing happened for awhile, and when I was beetroot red with embarrassment, sure I'd done something wrong, Rachel gasped and hunched over, green smoking pouring from her mouth. It wasn't a pretty sight. Then she spoke, in the deep, commanding voice of the Oracle:

_Five to the West, and amalgamation_

_ Traverse the land, across the nation._

_ Rescue humanity's crowning jewel,_

_ If the Olympians are to maintain their rule._

_ Fight together, preserve your principles;_

_ For each action causes ripple after ripple._

I took a step back.


	9. My Companions

**A/N: Sorry I didn't manage to post a chapter last night – here's your reward: a great setup for what's to come!**

Was I supposed to have memorized that? Seeing my blank expression, Rachel giggled. It was a pleasant sound, not unlike the noise a stream makes as it passes through two rocks, "Don't worry, I've had recording software set up in here ever since I issued the last Great Prophecy. Considering I don't remember anything _she_ says, I feel it's probably the least I can do to make sure the prophecy is conveyed."

Smiling, I thanked her and took the tape she held out. I'd have to play it later, as memory was not one of my talents, "Thanks Rachel, I'm going to head over to the Big House and speak with Chiron – he recommended we get going in the morning."

We said our goodbyes, and I waved to Percy and Grover on the way out, both of whom grinned at me, wishing me luck.

Though I probably should have been concentrating on my quest, all I could think about was my mother, or the woman who had raised me. If the rumors about Philotes were true, then she was an even better peacekeeper than Hestia, goddess of the Hearth (and perhaps the most practical of the Olympians). My chest was tingling; I missed my mother's warm embrace, her smile, and the way she could light up any day. I had to speak to Annabeth, according the most of the campers, she was one of the smartest demigods around. Resolving to ask her about Philotes, I made my way toward the Athena cabin.

/

Deep in thought, I arrived at the front steps and tentatively knocked on the door. I could hear the hustle and bustle of the campers within, and when the door was opened and I was invited in (careful not to enter without express permission, as I'd heard some gods were touchy about trespassing on the ground dedicated to them), I gazed in wonder. The walls were plastered with maps, excerpts of Shakespeare, Frost, Shelly, and hundreds of others were taped above bunks. In the center was what looked like a table, but it sprouted several planks that rotated and seemed to carry whatever the requesting Athena kid needed at the moment. Malcolm something-or-other had let me in, and when Annabeth caught my eye, a smile spread across her face, "You're a lot less sleepy than your brother, Clovis," she said.

I laughed, "Well, if I want to get anything done and save my mother, I've gotta stay awake."

Her face fell, "Oh, I should have known that's what you wanted to talk about..." When she saw my gaze fixed on the curious table in the middle of the room, she smiled again, "Ah, I see you've met Hawthorn. He's one of Daedalus's ideas – I created him using the designs I found on my laptop," she showed me the computer, proudly.

"It-"

"_He_," a passing Athena kid corrected me.

"Um, he's very useful, isn't he?"

"You don't know the half of it!" Annabeth exclaimed, and I got the feeling she was about to launch into a diatribe detailing all of Hawthorn's wonderful features. Don't get me wrong, the little table-guy was pretty cool and all, but I had something on my mind.

"Annabeth, you mind if we speak in private?"

"Sure," she led the way to a grey curtain in the back of the cabin.

"I didn't know you guys could have extra rooms in here," I said.

"Oh, well, we're not _technically_ supposed to, but using some of Daedalus's space-compacting diagrams, I was able to design a-"

"Annabeth," I said – I didn't want to be rude, but I had to get all the information I could before I set out for my quest.

"Right," she agreed. Leading me behind the curtain, Annabeth was watching me closely. I guessed she was looking for my reaction, and when I walked out into an area half the size of a football field, I could barely contain one.

"This place is amazing! How did you fit it in here?" I asked. When I saw her mouth open to respond, I quickly said, "Scratch that. I don't know how to go about asking you this, but will you tell me everything you know about my mother? Any information you have could be useful in saving her."

I spent the next few hours listening intently as Annabeth described the intricacies of Philotes's birth, her life as a maiden, her subsequent role on Olympus after the First Titan War, etc.

Finally, I decided it was time to go. Thanking her profusely, I turned to leave, but she grabbed my arm, "Eric? Take this, I have a feeling it will help you on your journey."

She handed me a battered baseball cap, and I couldn't think of what to say. Was it a good luck charm or something?

Seeing my confused look, Annabeth laughed, "It's enchanted; if you don it, it should turn you invisible."

I thanked her again and left the cabin, mulling over everything I'd learned. Very little seemed to relate to what I had to do, but I had a feeling it would come up somewhere.

/

At the Big House, I discussed what I'd heard with Chiron, and we played the tape of the prophecy, "Hmm...it looks as though you'll have to select four companions to accompany you on your journey."

"Excuse me, sir, but why do you look so grim?"

The centaur sighed, "My boy, five questers..." he trailed off, "it is an unlucky number. In Greek tradition, Heroes are allowed only two friends on their journey. Three Fates, Three Gorgons, Three Powerful Gods, Three Furies, etc.

Meekly, I questioned, "What about Jason and the Argonauts?"

"You'll remember that many of them died?"

"Ah," I said, even more scared now. "What happened the last time you sent more than three people on a quest?"

"You don't need to know, Eric, you're too young," Chiron replied firmly, but not unkindly.

"Wasn't that when Percy went to rescue Annabeth from Atlas's burden?"

He didn't answer my question, but I had a feeling I had struck home. This bothered me, not least because two of the five perished on the journey, Zoe Nightshade and Bianca DiAngelo.

Silently, I left the Big House and made my way to the Upper Field, where I hoped to find Roger. If anyone was coming with me, it'd be him. Spying the satyr next to Jordan, the nymph, I walked up, "Roger, do you have a minute?"

Grinning, he asked, "How did your visit to the Oracle go?"

"That's actually what I need to talk to you about. I consulted Rachel, and she issued a prophecy – it sounded ominous, but it specified that four other people were to adventure with me."

His eyes lit up, "Who are you gonna choose?"

I bit back my laughter at his seemingly innocent question; he was burning to come with me. I decided to toy with him a bit, "Oh, I don't know, Gwen for sure, maybe Katie Gardener..."

Roger was staring at the grass, and Jordan reached over to comfort him, placing his arm around the satyr's shoulders, "That's...that's a good group," he managed.

Finally, I couldn't help it. Chuckling, I said, "And you! Duh! After saving me from that Hellhound you think I'd leave you here to grow strawberries all day?"

"I shoulda known you were messing with you."

Crossing my arms, I replied, "Yes, you should have. Now go pack – I think we're gonna leave tomorrow morning."

He ran off, Jordan at his side, and I smiled. It was good to have such a good friend. Turning around to head to the dining pavilion, I realized I still had one empty spot on my quest. Thinking long and hard, I finally managed to decide who I'd offer the final position to. Roger was going to be furious.


	10. A Message

**A/N: Hello again, all! I've been really busy what with the end of the semester drawing near, but I've tried to keep up with my writing. This chapter sets the wheels of the story in motion, but I promise you the ones afterwards will be much more exciting. Thanks to my reviewers, followers, and favorit(ers?). I hope you enjoy!**

Working up my resolve, I leaned back against one of the tallest Eucalyptus trees, taking in the wonderful scent, the buzzing of the bees, the feel of the summer breeze as it touched my face. Before I knew it, in seeming accordance with my previous sleep habits, I dozed off – my head rested against the bark.

Gwen appeared before me, and I was entirely aware that I was dreaming. As I stood there expectantly, my friend opened her mouth and began to speak, though not in her normal voice. No, what I heard couldn't be right – a man, cruel and posh, with a defined English accent, spoke to me, "Eric, how wonderful to meet you at last."

"Who are you?" I responded, angry and confused – how did he know my name?

Gwen laughed, "I am Morpheus, god of Dreams – and as much as I would like wipe that rude look from your face, my lord Hypnos has placed you under his protection...for now. I come bearing a message from your father, and though I am obligated to deliver it, I am by no means required to help you decipher it."

The man/Gwen pulled out a scroll and held it out to me. Taking it my hand, I slowly unfurled the parchment, preparing to read. What I saw – the well-constructed visage of a grey man – made me drop the message, and when it hit the floor, it exploded into dust. From the ashes, I could see wisps of smoke rise and form the same face, "The world of the unconscious is your domain – navigate it, and it will serve you, but demonstrate uncertainty, and it will consume you."

The smoke dissipated, leaving me alone with Morpheus, who grinned before disappearing into purple bubbles. It reminded of a lava lamp, but I had no time to dwell on that, I was too busy trying to figure out my father's message. Storing the information in a mental file cabinet, I willed myself to wake up – surprisingly, I did so, only to find Jordan standing over me – looking concerned.

/

I was in the Big House now, no beautiful nature scenery surrounded me. Instead, Gwen – the real Gwen, I presumed, stood at my bedside, looking at me with worry. Roger was beside her, grasping Jordan's hand as he wailed with relief. Next thing I knew, he had given me a huge goat-hug, "You've been out so long! What happened?"

Chiron strode into the room, looking stern, "Alright, alright – let the boy get some rest. He will need his strength for the quest tomorrow."

"Excuse me, Chiron, but I need to go somewhere – I have something to do."

He eyed me with concern before nodding, "Well, I suppose you _have_ rested enough."

Confused, I looked at Roger, who said, "It's Friday, Eric, you've been out for nearly sixteen hours."

/

Nervously, I made my way toward the Artemis cabin, where the Huntresses were staying while their Mistress was off tracking the remaining rebels. I took two steps up to the cabin, just now noticing the elegant silver gleam it gave off. My hand in mid-air, about to knock on the door, I realized what was about to happen and almost turned away. If I were to face rejection now, before even beginning my quest and after having been in what looked to be a coma, how would I convince my friends to follow me into the dangerous unknown? Their leader, me, the twelve year-old demigod newbie, couldn't afford to look weak before setting out!

But if I didn't ask for her help, the quest would fail, so I steeled my nerves and knocked on the door. After two minutes passed without an answer, I pushed the cabin open, careful not to step inside. It was empty – she'd left! How was I supposed to ask for her help? A little relieved, which made me feel guilty, I decided to go to the dining pavilion. I couldn't believe I had missed my chance to recruit Gloria; I was sure she was supposed to help us, but I didn't see how that was possible now.

/

As I sat down with Clovis and a couple of other sleeping demigods at the Hypnos table, Roger slid in beside me, "You mind telling me what happened?"

I sighed and relayed my encounter with Morpheus and the message from my father. Roger looked thoughtful before replying, "Maybe you'll be able to control people in their sleep. That would be so cool!"

I gave him a look, "Really, Roger?"

"Hey, you never know," he laughed, and I realized he was trying to cheer me up.

"I know you wanted to bring Gloria along, but maybe it's for the best. We've got a pretty good group – I told Katie and Gwen; they both jumped at the chance to join us. Who're you gonna get to fill the vacant place?"

"Hmm..." I glanced over at the neighboring tables. Then I did something that surprised even myself, "Pollux, will you come with us to rescue Philotes?"

The stunned kid, a child of Dionysus, who was now glaring at me from across the pavilion, looked at me glumly, "Wh...why would you want me? I'm no good."

"That's not true! This quest is going to be comprised of a focused group – we need people familiar with nature; it's a feeling I've got. That's why I picked Roger and Katie – you'd make a fine addition to our team!"

Pollux looked like he had been handed leather wings and pushed off a cliff. I looked, a little disappointed, "If you don't wanna go, it's okay – I just thought-"

He cut me off, "No! No, I'll come – I'd like to help you."

Roger and I grinned, and I looked over at Gwen, who raised an eyebrow. Mouthing the words, "I'll explain later," I turned to my enchiladas and began eating.

/

Later that afternoon, (we had decided to set off on Saturday so Pollux could prepare himself), Roger told me I'd be playing Capture the Flag, "Because of the new campers, we're splitting up into four teams this week. It'll be a free for all – whoever's left with their flag and in the possession of the most enemy flags after an hour wins."

I looked at him anxiously, a bit paler than normal, "How do we select teams?"

Smiling even wider, he said, "Cabins form alliances with one another to defeat the existing champions. Right now, Athena-Poseidon-Apollo have the Cup, while Ares-Hermes-Hephaestus is set to be their biggest challenger. The remaining cabins are as of yet unaligned – you might wanna convince Clovis to side with one of those two this week."

Shaking my head, I understood I had the opportunity to prove myself, "No, I'll form my own coalition – using my friends."

Roger moaned, "We're gonna die, aren't we?"

Grinning, I said, "Maybe, but we'll show camp that you don't need to meet the traditional definition of 'hero' to be great."


	11. Inside the Borders

It was as though I had never lived before. Suddenly, my entire cabin turned to me for direction, despite the fact that I had barely arrived at camp. Thankfully, Clovis didn't seem to mind – in fact, my assumption of his responsibilities allowed him more napping time. I designed a plan, taking into account what we knew about our opponents, focusing on our strengths and compensating for our weaknesses.

Roger helped me by scouting around the other cabins and speaking to our allies – I managed to convince Demeter, Dionysus, Aphrodite, and Tyche's cabins to join us, and though we were the laughing stock of most of the other campers, I was confident we could win. For one thing, Roger's liaising provided enough insight to where Katie Gardener and I could develop a strategy worthy of Athena. Bursting with excitement for the night's games, eager to prove that I was qualified to go on my quest tomorrow, I gathered my prospective team in the woods – we met near Jordan's tree (in hindsight probably not the best idea, considering he was constantly yelling encouragement that distracted from the purpose of the gathering).

Katie silenced the crowd, "Alright, guys, listen up! Tonight we're gonna bring the glory to those of us who have never tasted it. Using my mother's gift with plants, all opponents are going to have the toughest of times getting to our flag, and playing on Pollux's way with vines and merriment, we should be able to distract any that do. Hypnos' cabin will send their guards to sleep, and Tyche will make sure that we avoid large confrontations and that luck is on our side. You all know the plan," she handed out several stapled packets, each containing more than ten pages, "and you know that although it'll be tough, we can do this if we stick together."

Jordan spoke from his oak tree a few yards away, "Is that…is that p-paper?" He sounded horrified, and I realized why – bark would have had to have been harnessed to make it.

"Uh, no, no it's…uh…parchment. No paper, don't worry," Clovis tried to calm the poor nymph.

Unfortunately, all he seemed to accomplish was ticking off Roger, who shouted indignantly, "That's sheepskin! How could you!?"

Rolling her eyes, Katie raised her hands again – "All of you, quiet! Next time I'll get Hermes to give us all tablet computers if it'll make you happy, but right now we've gotta focus."

I admired her speaking ability, thankful once again I had invited her on the quest. We spent the next few hours discussing our strategy while Pollux passed around grape juice.

Finally, right before dinner (as we had all decided to skip out on our afternoon activities), we adjourned. The Tyche kids handed out enchanted mortal currency on the way out: pennies, reminding us to drop them heads-up on the ground if we needed to before picking them up and enjoying a few seconds of good luck.

/

I sat with Clovis and couple of my siblings, gnawing my corn on the cob while my mind was focused both on the messages I'd received from my parents and on the game that night. Determined to win and prove my worth, I left the dining pavilion early to head over to the woods and scout out the area we decided to place our flag.

Walking up a steep slope to a shaded plateau, allowing our flag to be visible but also giving the Demeter kids all the space they needed to conjure up Poison Ivy and killer Venus Fly Traps, I began to worry about what my father had said. What was I supposed to with dreams? That was Morpheus's domain, wasn't it? Eventually, after hitting a mental wall where after I was unable to come up with any good ideas, I began to wonder if Roger's crazy guess could be correct. If I could control people in their dreams, well, that would be so cool – a little scary, yes, but still really awesome.

I was so caught up in my web of thought I didn't notice the shadow emerging from the woods until it towered above me. Upon hearing a low growl, I whirled about – I knew that the woods were stocked with monsters as a challenge to the campers, but this thing was unreal! It had the front legs of a rooster, but the back of its body resembled a horse – its face was a mangled mix of the two. I tried to remember what it was from my Greek Mythology lessons with Annabeth, a hippalektryon or something. What was its weakness?

Before I could think, it lunged, and I was forced to dive out of the way – landing hard on my right shoulder. Staggering to my feet, I began summoning my armor and sword from the clouds. Whatever happened, I couldn't let this thing hurt my friends back by the cabins. Gathering my strength, I charged at the monster, sword in hand. The beast reared up on its hind legs, and though I ducked and slashed horizontally across my body, the way Jordan had taught me, my blade connected with the rooster legs and began to hiss, smoke emanating from it. The hippalektryon screeched, and I was forced to put my hands to my ears. The pain was unbearable.

Reacting as fast a dazed demigod could, I jumped back as the monster made to swipe at my torso. I wondered if I could change my weapon. The minute I thought it, my cloud-sword disappeared, replaced by two daggers. Ducking yet again, I feinted to my right, jumped, then rolled under the belly of the beast, stabbing upwards into its midriff. The thing wailed in pain and began to stomp the ground around me – apparently too strong to be returned to Tartarus with a single knife wound.

The mini-earthquake caused by the combination of its hooves and rooster toes was enough to send me sprawling. As I lay there, helpless, the hippalektryon placed its claws around my throat, choking me. I tried my best to lull my attacker to sleep, but I was too panicked to concentrate. Raising its second claw above my head, planning to crush the life out of me, I struggled with all my might.


	12. Saved by the Party

**A/N: Sorry for the Cliffhanger last chapter (well, not really), but hopefully you didn't have to wait too long – enjoy! Feedback is appreciated – more followers, reviewers, etc. are welcome :)**

I gazed up at the creature's cruel beak, arched to resemble a sneer. All the insignificance, the hopelessness I'd felt over the years (when I was awake, of course) came flooding back, and as I stared deep into the raven-like eyes, a chill swept through my body. Continuing to pull desperately at the talons piercing my throat, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.

A boy of average build, about fifteen, with a bright shock of purple hair, was strolling through the woods, small plants sprouting at his feet – about fifty yards from me. My attention now divided between my assailant and my potential savior, I managed to gasp, "P-Pollux! Help me!"

Slowly rounding in a circle, the Dionysus kid started looking about perplexedly, trying to locate the sound of my voice, "Eric, is that you? What's wrong – I came up here looking for you; you, uh, you really gave me some confidence when you picked me earlier, and I wanted to share my idea for –"

"Not now," I choked, "please…look up."

The massive being towering above me seemed distracted, and I used these few precious seconds of relief to direct Pollux to where I was – struggling to keep my voice audible. In the middle of my sentence, however, I felt the claws tighten and once again saw the heartless red-black eyes of the hippalektryon boring into me. Scratching at the cracked and worn rooster feet pitched above me, only one thought was on my mind, 'Pollux, get yourself up here…because if this thing kills me, I'm gonna come back from the dead to haunt you!'

I heard a scrabbling as Pollux mounted the plateau, kicking a few rocks down the treacherous slope with his trainers, "Are you okay? What could possibly be…" he trailed off.

"Just figure out how to help me!"

"Wha-what is that thing? I've never seen anything like it; maybe I should go and fetch Chiron, he'll know what to do."

"No! No, by then it'll be too late," I responded, though inside I was worried about looking weak in front of my teacher.

"Um…" Pollux thought aloud. Eventually, he seemed to decide on a course of action. Raising his bloody hands, no doubt cut on the rocks as he climbed, he summoned grapes. Darting back and forth like I'd seen my friends do before mounting the flaming rock wall back in the valley, Pollux hurled grapes at the monster. Fortunately, it seemed that his fruit was not normal in the slightest, for when it connected with the hippalektryon, it exploded into purple liquid that seemed to burn the creature.

Roaring in rage, the hippalektryon released its grip on me, backing away a few feet. Now, crawling out of the way and gathering the strength to launch an attack, I watched as the beast turned toward Pollux and charged, "No!"

I was too far away to do anything constructive but hurl one of my daggers at the back of the beast, catching it in the back, and although it screeched, it didn't seem fazed. Pollux was frozen in fear, and I felt an immense wave of guilt – _I'd_ made him come up here to rescue me. If he died, it would be my fault. Suddenly, Pollux seemed to gain control over his body, and he clapped loudly, over and over again.

I wanted to scream, "What the heck are you doing? Now isn't the time to dance."

Apparently the hippalektryon didn't feel the same way because it stopped its battle cry and began to sway in time to Pollux's hands. Dumbfounded, I didn't know what to say. The beast was now shaking its head to the rhythm, which sounded suspiciously like _Happy Birthday_.

Feeling a little bad about it, I summoned my dagger and willed it to morph into a bow. I'd always been a decent shot, especially since summer camp a few years ago, but now I was shaking. Almost remorseful that I'd have to kill the thing while it seemed to be entranced by the beats, I took aim and fired straight at its head. Dissolving into gold dust, the beast gave one last bob of its head before Pollux collapsed to the ground, exhausted.

I rushed to his side, the wind picking up around me, threatening to send the poor guy off the side, "Pollux, are you okay? That was amazing! I knew I made the right choice picking you."

He gave me a weak smile; it was clear he'd never really been accepted in camp before. According to most people, he had grown progressively sadder ever since his twin brother, Castor, had died in The Battle of the Labyrinth last year. The fact that his universally-hated father was the director of Camp (though no one would say it out loud, of course), was also a damper. I could tell I'd really cheered him up.

"How did you do it?" I asked.

"Well, I don't really know – my dad's the god of festivals, maybe parties fall under that title?"

"I guess. Either way, you saved my life," I responded, thankful. Contemplating Capture the Flag, I gestured to Pollux that we should probably start heading back before someone wondered where we were.

Before I could help him up, however, Annabeth came running up the hillside, "Guys, they're up here!" She turned to us, "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

As several other campers scaled the cliff, headed by Chiron and a nervous Roger, we explained ourselves to Annabeth.

"A hippalektryon? Are you sure? He couldn't possibly make it past the borders without our knowing…not unless someone summoned him." At least she seemed to believe us.

Dionysus, on the other hand, merely glared at his son, "How dare you associate with this brat?"

Knowing it might be suicidal, I stood up for the kid, giving his father one of my calmest looks before replying, "Sir, he saved my life. This hippalektryon –"

"Nonsense, that's the stuff of legends – those things went extinct a long time ago."

Just then, a nymph emerged from the trees, "Forgive me, my lord, but the boys are telling the truth. That…behemoth trampled my friends and nearly killed one before this son of Hypnos here –"

"How do you know who my dad is?" I asked.

Dionysus scowled and began to rub his stomach. If he had a mustache, I'm sure he would have been stroking it, "Well, it looks as though my son has alerted the camp to the presence of a dangerous demon – I think olive branches are in order."

"Wait, sir," Annabeth interjected, spinning on her toes and glaring at the members of her cabin who happened to be present, "did any of you know anything about this? How the hippalektryon managed to circumvent our borders." Her tone was accusative, and I could tell that she was suppressing outright rage.

"What's got her goat?" I asked Roger, who was standing next to me, bleating quietly.

"Hmm? Oh, her. Nothing much, it's just that th hippalektryon is a symbol of Athena – it appears on her shield in many artists' depictions. Personally, I don't see why; carrots and tin cans would be a much better icon to emblazon on your gear."

Edging away so as not to display my amusement, I turned to Pollux, who seemed to anticipate my question. He said, "I think she suspects one of her cabinmates – they've gone nuts about winning Capture the Flag lately, and I'm sure a number of them would do anything to secure their victory."

I was torn away from my thoughts by Chiron's commanding voice. The old centaur cleared his throat and shuffled from hoof to hoof, "Campers, there is no reason for worry. No one was harmed, and I recommend we proceed with our activities as planned." There was strain in his speech, as if he didn't believe what he was saying, but he caught my eye and quickly turned away. I made a mental note to confront him about it later.

For the time being, I tried my best to shake off my encounter with the beast, but in a camp full of tweens and teens, word spread pretty quickly, and Pollux was soon swept off his feet by the Demeter cabin and carried high above their heads as we made our way back into the valley to suit up for the coming match. The expression on Pollux's face was one to remember, I don't think I've ever seen him so happy. Grinning to myself, I refocused my attention on the game and on our plan, attempting to push the nagging fear that the beast had been intended specifically for me out of my head.

/

Demeter, Aphrodite, Hypnos, Dionysus, and Tyche campers stood shoulder to shoulder along the embankment of a small stream, an offshoot of the much larger one nearer the center of camp. Katie and I paced nervously; despite the hippalektryon's earlier attack, we had decided to adhere to our plan and therefore placed the flag up on the rocky plateau.

High above, the sun was an orange eagle, making its way slowly across the sky. I could picture Apollo in his chariot, mirroring the moves of the actual sun, helping sustain the feelings humans had come to grow dependent on. Smiling, I turned back to the assortment of demigods (or half-bloods, we were sometimes called) standing before me. Tilting my head up to the sky and mounting a small mound in front of our "base," I announced, "Are you ready, children of the gods, to bring home the opponents' flags?"

A resounding cry of "Yes!" met my ears.

"Are you ready to enjoy that sweet smell of victory as we work together, using all our strengths, accounting for our weaknesses, and grow closer as we do so?"

"Yes!"

"Then let's get going!"

A battle cry of the strangest sorts was taken up: a patchwork utterance that sounded all the more beautiful because of the demigods that had come together to make it.


	13. Capture the Flag

**A/N: I'm not too good at writing action, so don't hesitate to PM or review with your suggestions. Enjoy!**

As the various groups charged towards their positions, Pollux tugged lightly on my sleeve. Turning towards him, I saw his face – red with the effort of sprinting, "Eric," he whispered and pulled out a torn sketchpad, stained with what looked suspiciously like grape juice on the corners. Showing me his notes, Pollux managed a mischievous grin; I nodded in response, and though I didn't know exactly what it was he was planning, I was sure it was going to be good.

The evening air was cool, and it brushed lightly on my cheeks as I went over the plan once again in my head. Katie Gardener, a few of her cabin-mates, and some cheery Tyche kids were headed to our western flank, planning to defend against any Athena traps using their luck and nature magic. A few other groups of mixed-Demeter and Hypnos campers were headed to our northeastern border, preparing to hold off the brunt of an Ares. A smaller group of Tyche kids would follow behind and hide the thick brush, inconspicuously bringing bad luck down on the Hephaestus war machines. Hopefully, Pollux and Roger would provide adequate protection for the team's flag, a great blue banner waving over our heads, while I traveled from group to group, providing help where needed.

Clapping my hands together and bringing Roger out of his stupor, I summoned my armor and my sword, the wisps of smoke curling around my fingers before they solidified into the protective gear I'd come to rely on. Not even five minutes had passed when I heard a rustling in the trees behind me. The red-yellow leaves parted to reveal a small green face, one I recognized well, "Jordan!" I exclaimed, excited, "what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to help," he said sheepishly, "I can't let Roger get hurt."

The satyr off to my left turned beetroot red, "Jordan, I'm fine –"

"We'd love to have your help," I cut Roger off, "but if you must, head over to our southern flank – I saw Liam, that Hekate mage, wandering about that section of the forest, but I don't have time to check it out."

Nodding enthusiastically, the nymph took off.

Smiling slightly, I sidled up to Roger, who was blushing, "You okay there, Roj?

"Mhm," he replied, shaking himself like a wet dog (goat?) and bringing his pipes to his lips in anticipation.

"Great, I'm gonna head to Katie's group to see if she needs anything. Good luck, guys," I winked.

I stumbled through the brambles, trying my best to remain quiet, though I was never one for stealth. By the time I spotted Katie, I had heard the deep toot of a French horn, signifying Hekate's lost flag. Refocusing myself, I tiptoed to Katie's position, wondering why she was standing still. Then I saw it. Will Solace was aiming two arrows, one at a satyr's sweaty forehead and the other at a scruffy-looking armorsmith I thought I recognized as Hephaestus' deputy counselor. Katie had Jerry Fletwick and an Athena girl intertwined in cornstalks, while a tall, red-headed Ares kid held two jars of Greek fire aimed at both opposing teams. I'd walked into the middle of a three-way standoff.

Just then, I heard the snapping of twigs ahead of me, and as I jerked my head up to see what was happening, I made my way ever-so-subtly closer to the clearing. An excited Jordan burst through the elm trees, "Katie, Katie, I checked out the southern half like Eric said, and the trees almost snatched me up! They're enchanted all right, but Hekate is outta commission, so I think we're good for now," he babbled before realizing he was surrounded by enemies, who were glaring at him intently.

Grimacing, he muttered, "Oh, shoot," then, "CHAAARRRGGGGGEE!"

Most of the combatants looked confused, Will even went so far as to lower his weapon. Bad idea. Realllllly bad idea. What was previously a quaint grove was now overrun by nymphs of all ages and statures. They stormed the area, raising their arms to club any camper within a five-foot radius. Luckily, Katie had the sense to erect a wood-and-vine barricade around our team, so that when the carnage finally ceased, we were the only ones standing.

Grinning, Jordan turned to me, "How's that for some rescu-"

He never got to finish the thought, however, because the mysterious Ares camper who had levied a javelin at Gwen a few days ago during practice sliced downward, his blade connecting with Jordan's neck. The poor nymph evaporated in a cloud of green fog, the tendrils wrapping around the silent attacker and returning to the forest. At that moment, I lost control, and I grabbed the nearest thing I could find: a pinecone. Chucking it with all the speed and strength I could muster, I aimed at the Ares camper, who only now showed signs of realization for what he'd done. As the pinecone connected with the kid's bronze breastplate, I felt something I'd never felt before: unadulterated loathing. How could he cut down an innocent nymph? Someone who'd dropped his weapon and had turned around. I must have infused some of my power into the pinecone because when it clinked against the metal, he fell to the ground with his thumb in his mouth.

Livid, I stormed off, hoping to notify Roger before he heard it from Chiron, or worse, an unsympathetic Mr. D. Unfortunately, I was cut off by a pack of smirking Athena campers. Their swords at my throat, I was about to surrender when Drew Tanaka of Aphrodite threw something at Malcolm, from Athena. Growling, he brushed away the lipstick canister.

Suddenly, his entire cabin turned pink, but not from embarrassment. It looked like they had ingested twenty bottles of potent food coloring, and soon the color spread to their armor, weapons, and eyes. Soon, the entire Athena cabin was blind. I looked over at Drew, who had a satisfied smile spread across her face, "A gift from my mother," she explained simply.

I nodded, and we edged past the angry Athena campers to snag their flag a few hundred yards away. One of them managed to track us by the sound of Drew's Gucci shoes in the mud, but she sent him off with a fistful of blush to the body, which stuck and began to buzz. I didn't stick around to see what happened after that.

/

As we reconnected in the original grove, three of the four flags in our possession (Katie had used sweetly scented roses to trick the Ares campers into giving them the Hekate flag they had captured before they returned to their base), we prepared ourselves for what would inevitably be a large assault. Though a few Hephaestus and a couple of Ares campers were out of commission, we had yet to encounter a single Hermes kid.

Nervously twirling his curly hair, Roger was chewing on what looked incredibly similar to a box of Kraft Macaroni. Remembering what had happened with a wave of sadness and guilt, I made my way toward him, but before I could relay the news, I heard the trumpeting horns of what sounded like an amassing army. Out of the trees from all four corners clamored nearly forty campers, twenty-six of whom were from Hermes. Paling, I motioned for our team to form the ranks we had discussed earlier, but Pollux seemed to have plans of his own.

As the enemies approached the small stream we were so desperately defending, I heard Dionysus's only mortal son scream, "Now!" as he placed his hands palms-up near his knees and jerked them to above his head. Immediately, a rumble sounded, and the creek exploded. At first I thought Percy was using the water against us, and I instinctively stepped backward, but instead I saw grey creatures appear in the creek and begin to attack campers who attempted to cross. It took me awhile to figure out that the animals helping us were dolphins, river dolphins to be exact.

I recalled the myth wherein Dionysus, kidnapped by greedy sailors, had transmogrified the entire crew into sea-creatures. What I didn't know was that his hold over the mammal extended to freshwater dolphins, or that his son had inherited this power. By now, I was cheering giddily as I engaged a flamboyant Hermes girl about two years my senior.

A couple of the Tyche kids grabbed the coins they had given each of earlier and blew on them before hurling them into the crowd. One caught the back of a massive Hephaestus camper – Jake Mason, who began to turn on his peers, yelling, "Duuuddee! I can't control my own body!"

The Tyche campers laughed, "What rotten luck, " before they were forced to fend off a dive-bombing miniature airship that the Stolls had designed.

Slowly but surely we pushed the intruders outward, and I took the time to help Roger (who was busy enchanting a tree so that it lobbed pomegranates at passing Apollo archers) and quickly told him what had happened. Much to my surprise, he responded, "Don't worry – he just evaporated and returned to his tree. As long as his life source is fine, he should be okay, but we'll go check on him later."

I was a bit put off by his apparent lack of concern, but when I saw that he was trying hard to suppress his emotions, I patted him on the back and smiled, "Sure."

Five minutes later, when Connor Stoll was crawling groggily out from the Creek bed – three river dolphins slapping him with tuna on his back – the horn sounded to signal the end of the game. We had won!


	14. The Nymph

**A/N: Thanks for the support, everyone, and sorry for the long wait between chapters. Here is the next installment – lots of great characterization and some fantastic moments. Enjoy: Review, Follow, Favorite! :)**

The rest of the evening went by smoothly. Katie and I were hoisted up onto the shoulders of our teammates and paraded about the camp like trophies. We spent an hour or so reliving the game to all those who had missed the important parts. It was exhilarating – I had never before received so much attention.

Eventually, however, Jordan popped into my mind again. A tidal wave of shame hit me, and unlike the water that brought us the dolphins who saved the day, this wave crushed me. I had completely forgotten about Roger and what might have happened to his friend, the boisterous nymph who had taught me rudimentary sword-fighting skills.

I managed to wriggle my way out of the circle of the thirty or so campers listening to me. As I walked toward the Big House, I noticed that the stars had come out. Remembering my second lesson with Annabeth the day before last, I tried to identify some constellations on the horizon. I saw Orion, the Big Dipper, and Zoe Nightshade, the Huntress who had fallen to her father, the Titan Atlas, two years ago. This made me sad. Although I had only known Camp Half-Blood for a few days, it had become my second home, and the friends I had made were like a family to me. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose them, let alone on a quest to rescue my mother.

While I trudged through the fields, every once in a while trodding on an overripe strawberry, a light, brighter than the rest, shined off in the distance. At first it seemed like another star, but as I approached, I realized it was much closer. Wondering who would be out here by themselves after Capture the Flag, I moved towards it, my curiosity spurring me forward. I was startled upon discovering that the light belonged to Gwen, and she was crying.

Knowing full well that I could upset her further, but at the same time worried about her, I spoke up, "Gwen, you alright?"

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Of course she wasn't alright, how could I be so insensitive.

The Hermes girl shakily raised her head, and when she saw me, though it was dark, I could have sworn she blushed, "E-Eric? Yeah, I'm f-fine, just a little worried."

She looked hysterical, 'a little worried' was an understatement. "What happened," I asked.

"It's Jordan, I think he might be...dead."

I dropped the lucky coin the Tyche campers had let me keep as a memento from the game. Astounded, my mouth gaped, "Wh-what? Roger said that if his tree was intact, he would be okay." I knew in my heart that something horrible had happened.

"You'd better come see," she said, slowly struggling to her feet.

I put out a hand to help her up, and she blushed an even deeper shade of crimson, but she accepted my help.

"Follow me," she led me through the fields toward the Big House. I had been headed there anyway, but I figured keeping her company would make her feel a bit better. I noticed she still hadn't let go of my hand, and I was not going to pull away.

As we navigated the rows of strawberries, I could see the light blue administrative structure teetering, as if balanced on a precarious cliff, in the distance. Though proud-looking, it seemed as though it were about to fall over, like it had been built on a slope. Gwen told me that when the Labyrinth collapsed last year, the resulting earthquake had caused one half of the building to sink a few inches into the ground, and Chiron had yet to find a solution.

We stepped up onto the wooden stairs, our combined weight not even enough to cause the stairs to creak. Before I could knock on the door, it swung open, and a red-faced man in a bright purple suit gestured for me to come in, his pudgy hands motioning us to hurry. Perhaps accepting a stranger's invitation was a little unwise, but considering we were within the camp's protective, magical boundaries, I didn't feel uncomfortable.

Once inside, my mouth fell open. The foyer had been transformed into a medical station, and in the center, sprawled on a mattress far too large for him, lay Jordan the nymph. He didn't look healthy, and the greenish tint to his skin had faded tremendously. Standing over him holding his hand was Roger, with tears pouring down his face. I rushed forward to console my friend, but Chiron, in his wheelchair form, rolled to a stop in front of me.

A short blue woman (not blue as in sad, I mean _literally_ blue) in a white-beige lab coat with kind eyes and rosy lips stepped up next to him. "Greetings," she said in a sing-song voice, like the sound of air dancing across wind-chimes, "I assume you are the friends the satyr told me about."

Struck simultaneously by her motherliness and her confidence, I managed, "Er...um..."

Gwen saved me, "Yes, ma'am. We're here to see Jordan."

The woman grinned, and Chiron cleared his throat. She sighed, "Very well, Chy." Did she just call the greatest tutor of all time, a three-thousand year-old Centaur _Chy_? I was dumbfounded. But she continued, "Children, I am Syrinx, an immortal wind nymph and loyal follower of Artemis. Now, I must sterilize you both before you –"

Diplomacy was never my thing, I interrupted, "Weren't you chased by Pan and then transformed into reed pipes?"

I thought I was going to be blasted, but the nymph just laughed, "Why, yes. When Pan chased me, the water nymphs, some Naiads, shaped me into plants to help me avoid his advances. Pan eventually used me to make his 'pan pipes,' and so my life force is tethered to the wind instruments. I may take on human form (I didn't comment on the odd nature of her 'human' form) whenever I wish."

"Thank you very much for helping him, my lady," sniveled Roger, walking towards us.

I gave the big guy a hug but listened attentively while Syrinx explained, "the nymphs did me a great service that day, and so I must return the favor by helping others whenever I can."

As Gwen and I moved toward Jordan, Syrinx blew onto us, and, just for a moment, my world was one of song. I was light, lifted high into the air, floating with the support of the air. Then the sensation passed, and Syrinx giggled, "There you go. You've been purified and may now approach the patient."

We stood over Jordan, a gash the size of my hand in his neck, and I heard Gwen sob next to me, "I-I didn't tell you, but Jordan was like a brother to me. When I first came to camp, I didn't think I was talented enough to be a demigod, but Jordan insisted I was perfect, and he helped me develop all of my skills." A weak smile spread across her face as she reminisced.

"What could have caused this," I asked Syrinx, "Roger told me if his tree was fine, he would be too."

"And therein lies the problem," she responded, her melodious voice taking on a sadder tone, "someone tried to enchant his tree, and in so doing made it very sick."

"And the cut exacerbated it?"

She nodded, and for the first time, Chiron spoke, "The Hekate campers were told to avoid using magic on the nymphs, but it seems one of them thought he could win the game by poisoning the trees."

Gwen bristled, "In the south of the forest! We heard that the Hekate cabin was sabotaging the trees, but we never imagined it could cause this."

I put a tentative hand on her shoulder, "Will he heal?"

Syrinx looked down, "I don't know."


	15. Pel'-Mell

I stood by Jordan's bedside, watching Roger clutch his hand, sobbing uncontrollably. Though I had only known him for a few days, the fact he had offered to help me train for my duel when the majority of campers was preparing to cheer for Gloria the Huntress resonated with me. He had struck a chord in my heart, making me feel welcome as I was thrown headfirst into a psychotic world, filled with monsters and gods. Without Roger, Gwen, and Jordan, I don't know if I would have enjoyed being a half-blood (assuming that's even possible).

As I stood twiddling my thumbs, looking down into the pale face of the figure before me, I couldn't help but notice every detail. Jordan was now but a faint green; he looked like bleached granite, and his normally dancing eyes were scrunched shut. I noticed how Roger wept, even though the nymph was still breathing, if only just. I heard the windpipe-like voice of Syrinx chime that Jordan officially had fifteen minutes to live. I stood there and watched, unable to move. He couldn't die, not like this.

My mind, unwillingly, pranced over the last few days of my memory. Reminiscing about my first day to camp, I was overcome by a sense of nostalgia, despite the fact that it hadn't yet been a week! I remembered my confrontation with the Hunters, the small altercation that followed, and dinner that night. I thought about the stories I heard recounted around the campfire that night, of Percy and Annabeth.

They had discovered their identities, been forced onto a quest to prevent Civil War between the Olympian gods, defeated Medusa, bested the god of War in a duel, returned the symbol of the Sky god's power to him and helped preserve peace. The next year they were forced to do it again, and again, and again. Having discovered Percy's half-brother, a Cyclops, they had returned to camp, saved it from invasion only to find their mentor displaced and Tantalus in his place. They had suffered mistreatment, the threat of an end to the demigods' only refuge, and had eventually gone searching The Sea of Monsters for…

My train of thought emerged onto a bridge overlooking a river, one-hundred-fifty feet below. It was in a precarious position, either about to cross the bridge or plunge into the rapids below, "I have an idea!"

/

Dragging Chiron by the hand and Roger by the horns, I beckoned to Gwen. We sprinted out of the House and onto the turf. Roger looked at me like I'd gone mad, "What are you doing, man?"

"I think I know something that might…" I didn't want to say cure, just in case I was wrong. I couldn't risk subjecting Roger to that kind of emotion: raising his hopes only to have them dashed, I finished, "help Jordan."

The satyr's eyes lit up, while Gwen looked confused. Chiron was blank, difficult to read. Bounding up the hill, recalling Syrinx's warning of fifteen minutes, I didn't dare to explain myself.

This decision, quite understandably, seemed to anger Gwen, "Wait just a minute, Snoozy Head, you can't gallop half-way around the camp without telling us what you're up to!"

Refusing even to turn around, I grinned at her use of the nickname, "No time. Folloiw me."

Just as I had anticipated, they did come, albeit reluctantly. We climbed Half-Blood Hill, trudging further and further up the sides, away from the valley until…there, I saw it!

A beast the size of a double-decker bus, with hard scales and inquisitive eyes looked up, interested, from its place guarding Thalia's tree, "Hi there, Peleus," I said cautiously.

By now, the others had caught up to me, and, panting, Roger bleated, "Eric, are you oka…" he let his sentence fade as comprehension dawned on his face. Suddenly, I sensed something in his expression, apprehension, nervousness, hesitation, then, finally…hope.

I seized Chiron's arms and shook him – "Will it work?"

"I…I don't know, child."

"Why didn't you say anything before!?" Roger yelled.

"We could have saved him," Gwen sobbed.

"We still _can_," I reminded them, walking towards the tree – my arms outstretched.

The dragon had its wide eyes trained on me, as if daring me to come closer. I hadn't thought about this…I was approaching from the _inside_, surely he wouldn't stop me.

Almost lazily, a warning arc of fire whizzed above my head. I wasn't allowed to retrieve the object. What now?

Chiron said gently, shuffling from hoof to hoof, "We sequestered him from Olympus – his mission has been assigned, and I don't know if we can reverse it."

We couldn't defeat a dragon, and without being charred to a crisp, we couldn't save Jordan. Roger looked devastated, and Gwen was trying her best to be strong, but I could see desperation in her eyes, "We have to try."

Boldly, I strode toward the thick trunk, trying hard not to divulge my fear. A beam of flamed struck the ground in front of me, and when I looked up, I saw Peleus narrow his eyes. The previously friendly dragon was now quite annoyed.

Chiron trotted to my side and placed a hand on my shoulder, "It's okay…we'll find another way."

"How?" I spun, throwing his hand off my shoulder – "how can we save Jordan without it?"

"I don't know, but you can't acquire the Fleece, not with Peleus protecting it."

By now, several other campers had come to see why Chiron and some others were congregated on the Hill. They formed a semi-circle around us, watching with intent expressions, "We can fight him," I muttered.

Some people gasped, others looked at me like I'd gone mad, and still others tried to stop me. I wasn't having it. Roger's best friend was too young to die, and I wasn't going to let him down. Gwen rushed forward to help me, but Katie enchanted the grass to hold her back. Roger made as if to do the same, but Pollux grabbed him from behind and wouldn't let him move.

"I don't want you to get hurt," I said. As my breath wavered, I tried to remain resolute, "I'll do this myself."

Summoning my armor from the clouds, I drew a thin sword. Percy had made it up the Hill, and the snow cone he was holding dropped to the ground as he stared at me in shock. Drawing Riptide, he prepared to come to my side, but his girlfriend, Annabeth, whispered in his here. Grudgingly, he nodded. I was on my own.

Jordan's features bubbled in my mind, and I charged. Diving to the left, I narrowly avoided becoming the first Human Marshmallow, and I leaped up to begin a flurry of attacks to the dragon's left flank. I had no intention of harming the beast – he was friendly most of the time; heck, I had even fed him once. After all, he protected the camp. Right now, however, only Roger and Jordan were on my mind. I faltered, and a claw struck me in the side. Struggling to my feet again, I was met with white-hot fire. Singing my clothes, the fire danced its way in a path around me as I rolled to the right. I thought of all the things I still wanted to do in life, all the pain Roger would have to go through if he lost _two_ of his best friends on the same day. I even thought about Gwen and how much I would miss her.

Standing my ground this time, I confronted the flaming torch hurled at me. I concentrated hard, drawing from the clouds, praying to my Father. I felt a tugging sensation near my neck and shoulders, and the dragon dropped to the ground – asleep.

This didn't resolve the beam of fire zooming towards me – it was perhaps half-a-second away from maiming, or worse, killing me, and I was too tired now to move. From my right, a blast of cool water caught the fire and, in midair, it fizzled out. I saw Percy with his arms out, and, beside him, a very angry Clarisse whose water-bottle had just exploded.

Despite my waning strength, I walked toward the tree and sheared off half the fleece with my sword. Taking all of it would wake the dragon – I'm not sure how I knew that, I just did. Severing it, I handed it wordlessly to Roger, who bit his lip, "three minutes left."


	16. The Visit

**A/N: Forgive me for the short chapter – all the same, it's important. Anyways, let me know what you think, I love suggestions. I'd like to give a shout-out to Seven Benevolent Elephants for their support.**

**Enjoy! :)**

We were standing in an ornate garden, located towards the southeast end of the Big House. After Demeter cabin won chariot races last summer, they secured permission to plant an herbal monument to their mother on Camp Half-Blood property. The garden was beautiful in an antique sort of way. Split into various sections which each seemed to contain specific types of plants, the central feature was a stone statue – encircled by several small figures, daimones of the harvest. The statue itself was difficult to make out from my angle, and with my dyslexia I was sure I was reading it incorrectly: I thought it said _Wheaties_.

Before I could lean over and ask Katie why the goddess's tribute was a giant cereal box, someone trumped through the bougainvillea trees and burst, panting, into our clearing, "He-he'll live!"

We breathed a collective sigh of relief, and Roger looked as if he was about to shout with joy. Jordan's tree had been draped with the Golden Fleece fourth a few hours ago, while we were relocated here to wait. It was now late at night, and I could make out the constellations above us. Remembering our mission, thankful that Roger would be able to come with a clear head, I clapped the satyr on the back and said my goodnights.

/

"Eric!" I looked up. I was surrounded by row upon row of miniature statues, lined in what resembled a stadium. In the middle of everything, I saw a humanoid figure, about eight feet tall, with an earthen sword in his hand. He was standing outside a cage hewn from rock, and inside…I squinted: My mother!

Her eyes reflected pain and hardship, but I could still make out the love deep within them, "Dear, I don't have much time. You must listen: do not come here, do not risk your life – this place is evil to the core, and none who enters it can be assured safe return."

Struggling to comprehend her words, I glared at the sky, "I can't…I can't just leave you here. You-" I looked up at the walls, and etched into them I saw skeletons. They didn't resemble the stone figures that watched my mother hungrily. No, these faces were horrific, and they seemed to exude an aura of decay.

I tried rationality, "The gods! They won't be able to remain united without your presence."

My mother grimaced, "They'll manage – they have to if they want to preserve Western Civilization…and their rule. Promise me just one thing: You must not come here. Anax, he plans to exact reve-" she stopped and glanced over her shoulder at the giant conversing with one of his aides. "We are out of time," she said softly, "I love you."

/

Gasping and covered in sweat, I woke up. My sheets were on the floor and Clovis, awake for once, was standing over me, looking concerned. It was bright outside – maybe eight o'clock. I couldn't remember anything for a few precious seconds, and bliss settled on me. When my friends cleared their throats, I looked up and saw real worry in their faces.

"I need to speak to Chiron."

To my surprise, no one questioned me. My voice must conveyed urgency. They helped me out of Hypnos cabin and down the field towards the Big House. As we walked, I noticed the flowers on the trees were a little dimmer, and the strawberries didn't look nearly as healthy.

I didn't have much time to take this in, however, as the majority of the camps' counselors were gathered at the foot of the Big House – someone must have told them that I had something important to say. Gwen and Roger rushed forward to meet me, but I waved them away. There were too many things to think about, and as much as I wanted to crawl back into my bunk, I knew I had to speak to Chiron. Despite that, I didn't want my friends throwing questions at me left and right.

I spoke to the Centaur about my dream, but if he was put off, it didn't show. His forehead, lined with years of worry-wrinkles, remained relaxed. Because his expression was so impassive, I began to wonder if he was listening. Finally, after I had finished speaking, Chiron, inhaling deeply, replied, "It is troubling to know that the old giants stir. Anax was a Lydian creature, the son of Gaia and Ouranos. As the former king of Anactoria, now Miletus, he was very powerful; only your father's power finally ended his cruel reign. He was cast, while in a deep, deep sleep, into the pits of Tartarus."

Annabeth, Percy by her side, interjected, "His son, Asterios, later brought the kingdom to ruin, and it was conquered by Cretan soldiers. Such a pity, I say, because the architectural integrity of the former's reign was quite-"

Squeezing Annabeth's hand and rolling his eyes meaningfully, Percy interrupted, "Why is he interested in Philotes, then?"

Before I could venture a guess (truth be told, I had no idea), Travis Stoll spoke, "He could know about Eric's connection to her – maybe he wants to get back at Hypnos by kidnapping Philotes and luring Hypnos's son to come get her?"

My skin turned a deathly shade of white, "I was warned not to go after her, but…I have to – she's my mom."

Gwen put a hand on my shoulder; her touch warmed my insides. I felt a little more confident as I proclaimed, "I can't ask you all to risk your lives on my account – I'll rescue Philotes on my own."

Feeling happy at my display of strength, I didn't expect the slap that came at me from behind. Gwen glared at me, "No way are we gonna let you go off to your death all by yourself!"

Roger bleated, "If you're going, we're going. Besides, the Oracle has already issued a quest – we have to, technically."

Chiron, who had fallen silent minutes earlier, decided to speak, "I think Travis is only partially correct. Though Anax's grudge against Hypnos might cause him to do something this stupid, I feel it is indicative of something larger."

Katie looked pensive, "Yeah…how did the guy escape Tartarus?"

While we all baked in the oven of that wonderful thought, Chiron motioned toward the doors, "Regardless, it seems clear the quest must go ahead. I hope you all are prepared."


	17. Eric's Nighttime Adventure

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait everyone! A special thanks to **_**Seven Benevolent Elephants**_** for inspiring this chapter and helping me through a period of block. Because of personal preference, the story will be told from this point in the third person.**

That night Eric fell asleep quickly. This is not to say, however, that his dreams were uneventful. As a demigod, and further, a child of Hypnos, he could not hope for that much. Eric lied down amid the soothing music of Hypnos cabin to float gently into a beautiful new scene. The sun above was bright, but strangely there was no uncomfortable heat. The sand beneath his bare feet was white and soft. Scrunching his toes and inhaling the beautiful smell of the ocean, Eric gazed out onto a picturesque harbor.

To Eric, the area resembled the fantasy stories his mother had read to him when he was little: untouched by humans, pure and clean. As he peered out over a placid sea, he could make out the horizon miles away, where the sky and the water seemed to touch, to melt into one glorious, amorphous zone, with abundant green and orange hues. Lost in his trance, Eric was lulled into a sense of serenity by the beautiful vista and the subtle sound of wind passing through the palm trees above his head.

If he had to guess, Eric would say he were in the Caribbean, but this did not cross his mind. In fact, he didn't think about anything from the world he usually lived in. It was as if he had been transported to a realm away from the pressure and responsibility of quests and camp. He vaguely remembered a greenish nymph and his furry friend, a tall and wise teacher, something about arrows and swords, but he didn't care. He couldn't care. For Eric was in heaven – someone's heaven at least, the ideal world for those who touted "ignorance is bliss."

As his shoulders relaxed and his neck untensed, a deck chair appeared, topped by a virgin Pina Colada with a small yellow umbrella sticking out of it and a brimmed hat to shade him. He saw the birds fly over the sea, black, grey, and blue.

Then, straining his eyes, Eric spotted some different wings, some proud and white and feathery. He was tempted, inclined, to sit back and shrug it off. Why did a pair of wings matter when this scene presented itself for his enjoyment? There was something different about them, however, and try as he might, Eric couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Something was wrong. Those wings...they looked like the ones he had seen a few days ago, around someone's neck. 'Gwen!' he thought, and the memory of his friend came back to him in a rush – her dark, curly hair that hid her neck. When she flipped it, Eric had seen the same pair of wings.

Making connections more quickly now, Eric realized that the wings looked just like those he had seen on Hermes's boots at a museum when he was small. Gwen's father was Hermes, and the charm she wore on her necklace must be his symbol. Suddenly, Eric was aware of a change in the environment. The beautiful beach had disappeared, to be replaced by a dark and desolate scene. Looking around frantically, Eric saw cracks appear in the ground by his deck chair, which wasn't a deck chair anymore. Rather, it was a disgusting purplish creature, with two heads and gnashing teeth. Before he could realize this, two pairs of iron-strong arms had grabbed him and pulled him closer to the chair. He was bound.

The sea was now an ocean of acid, and the birds flying above had been replaced with skeletal copies of themselves. Heaven had become hell, and there was nothing Eric could do about it. Out of the shadows emerged the most terrifying thing Eric had ever laid eyes on. A black monstrosity, composed of pure darkness and held together by hatred and fear.

Between struggling to free himself and coping with the horror of the new world to which he had been unwillingly introduced, Eric gasped, "What are you?"

Snarling, the creature moved towards him, disappearing and reappearing every few steps into a new, more terrifying form, "Hhhooowwww diiddd jyoouuu essssskkcape?"

Eric was paralyzed with fear and could barely manage, "I-I..."

A claw emerged from what appeared to be the demon's robes and it grasped Eric's chin, pulling his face until Eric had no choice but to stare the demon in the eyes. Expecting to find solid blackness, Eric was even more terrified to see blood-curdling red pupils surrounded by a shade of black more solid than night.

"I willl asskkk buttttt ooonne morrrre tttimmme, boyy! Hhhowww ddidd jyoouuu esskkcappe my tttrrrancssse? Nno morrrttall hasss evverr bbeeenn abblle to rresssistt mmy hyypnnoossiiss!"

"Wh-who are you?" Eric stuttered.

A cruel laugh was emitted from what Eric presumed was the monster's mouth, "I, litttlllee chilldd? Iiiii ammm DOLUS ddaaiimmoonnn offfff trricckkkerrry!"

Stunned, Eric wriggled free of the purple monster restraining him, "Dolus, you are mischievous, yes. Treacherous, yes. But cruel and dark and gruesome? That isn't you. What do you want with me and who put you up to this?" Eric's survival instincts had kicked in, and he knew he would have to keep his captor talking to buy himself some time. He wasn't sure if his being in a dream would prevent his death.

The daimon's response was just what Eric had been hoping for, "HHHOoowww DDDAARReeee YyyoOuuuU! Nnnooo ONEEE COMMAaanndDDsS MmmMEeeEe!"

"I don't think so. This is just an illusion," claimed Eric, hoping upon hope that he was correct, "you cannot hurt me if I know that this is fake. So I give you one more chance, what do you want me for and who demanded you do this?"

Bristling with rage now, Dolus screamed like a petulant child, and the hideous black monster was encased in a veil of smoke. Emerging from that cloud was a man about the height of an NBA basketball player outfitted in green clothing bedecked with golden lace. He looked like the world's largest leprechaun. The horrific scene in front of Eric changed again, into a plain field. "Sssooo yyoouuu aaree smmarrtteerr thhaannn I tthhhooughhht," the daimon whispered, almost to himself.

"Answer my questions," said Eric, turning around to find that his deck chair/hideous purple assailant had been turned into a bunny.

"Yyyoou willl neevvverrr fiinnndd Philootttesss! Thhheee Ollyymmpiannns willl rueeee theiir misserabbllee existeencce whheennn Ga-"

"What? When who does what?" demanded Eric.

Dolus had turned pale but quickly recovered his demeanor, "Iiii willl nottt bbee quuesstionned bbyyy a chilldd. Yyoouuu will commeee wiitthhh me!"

Eric took a step backward, "You trespass in my father's realm by daring to come for me in my sleep. Be gone lest you wish to face the wrath of Hypnos!" Eric hoped he didn't sound like he was bluffing.

Laughing now, the leprechaun/daimon made as if to move closer, but Eric held up his hand, palm faced outward. Snapping his fingers into his palm and making a fist, Eric returned to reality. It was morning, and he and his friends had a quest to complete.


End file.
